Unbreakable
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: The middle of a war is not the time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'.
1. I Would Rather Die

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 1: I Would Rather Die

**A/N: The first chapter of the sequel. I hope you all enjoy! :) **

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"Humongous?" My voice came out quieter than I meant it to from lack of use.

The man was polishing his sword absent-mindedly, but at my words, he looked up. "Yes?"

"Is…is it just me, or are we going really slowly? I mean, we're nowhere near Berk, and we were really close to it just, I think, thirty minutes ago. In fact, it looks smaller."

Humongous walked up behind me and looked out over the horizon, shading his eyes against the glare of the sun. "Smaller?" he repeated uncomprehendingly.

"Yeah, I mean…we're sailing toward it, right? But it's not getting any bigger."

"Well, I…I don't know," he admitted confusedly. "Perhaps the ship is trapped between rocks? I mean, the water will eventually deliver us back out, but…"

"And if we are?" I demanded, turning to face Humongous, sure my fear was written all over my face. "What then?"

"It'll work out," he assured me gently, resting a hand on my shoulder. "There really is no rush in reaching Berk, is there?"

"Maybe not for you, but for me? Humongous, my whole life is somehow on that island! Everything I think I know could be a lie, and if it is, I have to know the truth." I was clutching the ship's railing so hard that my knuckles had turned white. "And Alvin's probably found out we're gone by now, so this whole place is most likely crawling with Outcasts looking for me!"

"You don't have to be afraid." Humongous replied softly, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not letting anything happen to you. Not this time."

"Hmm." I mumbled, turning to face the distant outline of Berk, which seemed a little fuzzy, but that was probably from the sun. I didn't bother telling Humongous that Alvin was probably going to find me – as I recalled, he was a pretty persistent Viking, and he was going to keep looking for me until he had me again. And I was going to keep trying to escape again. Essentially, we were playing a game that no one could win.

As I allowed my thoughts to drift away from what I'd left behind and towards what I was hoping to reach, my stomach gave an unpleasant jolt. All of my memories could be unlocked on that distant island, and the thought was both thrilling and terrifying. Humongous had spoken like he wasn't sure whether my real father loved me or hated me, and he had told me nothing about what my life on Berk had been like. Hell, he hadn't even been able to explain how I had lost half a leg, and suddenly there was just a metal contraption in its place. I just knew that Stoick the Vast had a ton of explaining to do.

I would get my answers. No matter if it turned out that I was unhappy on Berk and that Stoick really had been abusing me, the way Humongous had previously thought, the Hero had assured me that Toothless was waiting there for me. Even if I remembered being miserable on that island, there was nothing telling me I had to stay. I would just get to my dragon and go. Simple as that.

Humongous squinted into the bright sunlight, leaning against the boat with a sigh. "The boat should get free of the rocks once enough water pools up beneath it. When that happens, we'll start moving again."

"I don't think we're caught between rocks," I muttered. I was reluctant to admit it, because of how crazy it sounded, but I said it anyway. "I think we're going backwards."

"What?" Humongous looked at me in concern. "Is the heat getting to you, Hiccup? I know it's hot on this boat—

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "It's just…I mean, we looked like we were getting closer earlier, and now we're just going farther away—

"But the wind is on our side, and the current's pulling us towards the island," Humongous pointed out what I already knew, playing with the hilt of his sword in nervous habit. "And if it does start pushing us back, I think they might have a few pairs of oars below deck, so we can always use those…"

I nodded uneasily as I watched the Hero unsheathe his sword fully and scan the surrounding area. "There's something…here," he whispered, taking a quick step away from the railing, so he stood in the middle of the deck. "It's like fog. We might be sailing into some fog, which would be making the island hard to see…"

"No," I shook my head. "It's getting smaller, I know it."

Humongous drew in a breath. "This fog really is thick…if we don't reach that island within an hour, Hiccup, we won't be able to see a thing in any direction, and we can forget reaching Berk until it clears up again."

"And how long will it take the fog to clear?" I demanded. I knew I sounded a little impatient, but I think you'd be just a trifle impatient, too, if you suddenly realized that you'd lost half a leg, and the man who raised you was not really your father. Your father in fact, could be a fantastic man who loved you more than life itself, or a horrible, violent chieftain who did nothing but abuse you. So, maybe that explains why I was feeling so restless.

"Shouldn't take more than a couple hours," Humongous responded. "And we'd have to contend with it to make sure we didn't end up in the middle of nowhere while we were drifting and unable to see."

I rubbed a hand along my forehead with a little sigh as I glanced out at the thickening fog. It really was getting dense fast…faster than any regular fog I'd seen…

The back of my neck prickled suddenly.

"It'll be okay," Humongous reached over and rubbed my shoulder blades soothingly.

"Humongous…" I leaned over and tried to keep my voice low as I spoke. "I don't think this is regular—

"I'm sorry to interrupt this little escapade, but, Hiccup, I'm afraid you won't be reaching Berk today." A sudden voice interrupted our hasty whispers, and I'm pretty sure I jumped about a foot in the air. Humongous turned suddenly, fumbling to grab his sword. I saw my father – or not my father, but the man who I'd _thought_ was my father for sixteen years – climbing onto our ship through the thickening fog, a horrible smile curling his face. His eyes sparkled with malice.

"Or _ever_," he added for emphasis.

Humongous looked a little shaky, but his sword was steady in his grip. "Get out of here."

Just as I had expected, the old woman I had seen in my cell appeared swiftly beside my father – or _not_ my father…hell, I didn't know anymore – as suddenly as if she had used magic. Humongous' eyes blazed with rage. "Get off of our ship!"

"After all of the time it took to get you here?" the woman raised a thin white eyebrow, shaking out her long hair. "No, I don't think so. Setting it all up so you dolts wouldn't think we'd organized the escape plan was bad enough, but—

"Organized?" I sputtered, surprised out of my fear. "What—

"Well, we knew you wouldn't go anywhere with us willingly, if you had lost your memory, you revolting boy," the woman snapped at me, her pale eyes falling onto me instead. "Besides, I like to keep things…interesting. Like right now, for example. We could have just hijacked your ship and waited until you'd reached 'Berk'." here she put finger quotes around the name, pointing ahead for us to see that the suddenly much closer outline was not Berk at all, but an unrecognizable land. "But I decided to dispose of the useless ones while I still could. Like you, for example." She nodded politely at Humongous.

"I'm getting him to Berk if it kills me." Humongous snarled, his grip on his sword tightening.

"Very interesting," the woman replied softly. "Because it just might. You never know."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Nobody's dying!" I put in.

"Nobody who we still need." Once again, she turned her pale gaze on me. "Be grateful, Hiccup – you're still needed. You're not dying…not yet."

"I would rather die than go anywhere with you."

"Well, we don't always get what we want, do we?" The eerie fog thinned just as suddenly as it had come upon us. When I saw the woman putting her hands out, shooing the fog away, it just confirmed my growing suspicions. "You don't really have a choice." She pointed to the Outcast warships in a semicircle, canons loaded, archers with drawn bowstrings on the railing. "You're completely surrounded. Now come with us like a good little boy, and we don't have to hurt you."


	2. Fallen Hero

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 2: Fallen Hero

**A/N: I know this chapter is kind of heavy, but I bring good news: the angst factor is now higher than ever! :D**

**Oh, as for where Alvin went, you'll find that out next chapter :D **

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"Hiccup's not going anywhere with you," Humongous snarled, but moments after he'd said it, he was leaning down next to me, whispering very quickly and urgently in my ear. "Hiccup, I think she's going to be using some strong magic to win this fight, you need to get away right now."

"I can't just leave you here," I mouthed at him as he straightened back up, his face regaining the grim and determined look – or maybe he'd never lost it in the first place.

"You have to," he whispered, but his gaze was fixed on my father – or whoever he was, I didn't know anymore – and the woman beside him. "First chance you have, take it."

I wasn't sure when any chances would arise, but within moments, the woman was cupping her hands together, and my father – or _not_ my father – was coming towards us with his sword now unsheathed.

Humongous frowned, tightening his grip on his own weapon. "Get back." He took a quick step in front of me. "Get away from him, Alvin."

"I'm surprised at you, Humongous." My father whispered, a malicious glint in his eye. I had come to recognize that look, and learned to hate it, but Humongous hadn't. My breath caught in my throat, and I suddenly knew something was going to happen that I didn't want to.

"Humongous…" I whispered uneasily, reaching up to try and tug on his sleeve, but he wasn't listening to me; his eyes were fixed solely on the man in front of him.

"I didn't think a great, honest, noble Hero like yourself would ever turn traitor," my father continued.

My eyes flicked over to the woman, distracting me from warning Humongous. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she looked like she was doing something very complicated by the way she kept moving her hands.

She was performing some sort of spell, that much was clear…but I could see her lips moving, and knew she must be chanting under her breath. What kind of spell was she doing, exactly?

"It's you who's the traitor," Humongous growled. "You lied to me!"

"What did you expect, dolt?" My father replied, and he sounded a little amused now. "When somebody gives you the line 'word of a Treacherous', you don't know to never believe them for an instant? For the love of Loki, who taught you that you were smart?"

Humongous scowled. "It takes a horrible person to trick somebody who honestly trusts them." His voice was softer now and he sounded pitying. "And it takes an even worse person to go around throwing it in their face again. I honestly believed you, I thought Hiccup was yours. See if I'll ever help you again."

"No, no," my father persisted, smiling a little. "That's the great thing: we don't need you anymore. So, you can just get out of my way, if you please, and Hiccup and I will be on our way—

"No, you won't be on your way," the Hero snapped. "I am not letting you take Hiccup again. That's the kind of mistake I'll make only once."

"Your choice," my father shrugged, and swung his sword.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Humongous brought his own blade up to meet my father's.

"**Godway!" **The white-haired woman shrieked, throwing her hands out at last and opening her eyes.

Smoke enveloped the scene, and I twisted around suddenly, looking through the thick gray fog settling over the ship. I could see nothing, but all around me, I could hear people yelling. Some were cursing out the woman, for performing her spell too soon, but the clash of metal-on-metal let me know that Humongous and my father – Alvin, I mean – had found each other once again, and were resuming their match.

"Hiccup!" Humongous yelled through the smoke. I heard him give a sharp cry of pain.

"Humongous!" I shouted back frantically, tripping over myself to find him.

"Remember what I told you!" he panted from somewhere to my right. "Take the chance!"

I hesitated for a split second. "I can't leave you here!"

"I'll…_ouch_! I'll be fine, you just go!"

"Go where?" Another man called, appearing suddenly behind me. I could tell he was an Outcast, but he didn't look ready to hurt me. "The whole darned ship is covered in smoke, we can't see a thing!"

"Not you!" Humongous cried, appearing in front of us for a brief moment before my father – Alvin – hauled him back again. "I meant Hiccup!"

Sharp shouts of pain echoed all around as I bit my lip, my mind whirling with possibilities. I could jump ship, provided I could find the railing…but I couldn't get to Berk anyway. Humongous must have known that. I heard the woman chanting again, and this time, I was hurled off the ship, up out of the smoke, as was my – Alvin and Humongous as well.

I twisted around in midair, reaching for Humongous, but I couldn't seem to find him. The ground was rushing up to meet me, and I was reluctantly forced to conclude that this was not the relaxed freefall I was so used to doing with my dragon. I took a deep breath and readied myself for the impact. Come to think of it, I wasn't even sure how I'd gotten up in the air. The woman had done something, some strange spell, but I didn't think she'd meant to send all three of us up in the air like that.

Sure enough, I heard her shouting distantly somewhere far below us, just before I landed heavily, on rough and gritty sand. Something in my shoulder snapped, and a dizzying pain shot through me, so blinding that I could barely move. I lay there for a few moments before my mind drifted back to my fath—Alvin and the woman, and I sat upright, clutching at my shoulder and struggling to my feet. Humongous was lying some distance away, unmoving, his sword still clutched in his hand.

"Humongous!" I scrambled over to him, half-walking, half-dragging myself over, putting out my good arm and shaking his shoulder. "Hey, c'mon, get up, this is no time for sleeping! I mean, you did great in that sword fight, so let's try—Humongous? Humongous!"

He wasn't responding to my touch. His blue eyes weren't snapping open. He lay there unmoving, and suddenly a horrible thought overcame me. He couldn't be…no, he couldn't be, he had been alive when I had last seen him…

And then my worst fears were confirmed when I realized the sand was unexpectedly wet and bright red where he lay, a scarlet stain constantly growing around us, the knees of my leggings soaked in his blood.

"Humongous!" Frantically, forgetting about my shoulder and jamming my ear on his chest, I pressed my head against his still body and listened, willing his heart with everything I had to beat again, as if I thought I could give him some of my own lifespan.

His heart wasn't beating. He wasn't responding, even when I began to yell at him, scream at him to wake up and stop joking _because for Thor's sake it isn't funny anymore_!

I stared down into the pale, bloodless face, and I couldn't define the feeling in my chest, the strange squeezing in my heart. I had known people who had died before, but I had never actually seen them after it had happened. I had never seen a wound like I did then, not a fatal one that was still coloring the ground around us.

The sight of the blood hardly even bothered me like it might have previously; I could hardly take my eyes off the deathly pale face. "Humongous," I breathed through very numb lips, "Humongous…"


	3. His Move

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 3: His Move

**A/N: I really need to get back to work on my Camp story -.- This wouldn't be such a big deal, seeing as I'm at almost 19k, I think, except there's this dweeb in my cabin who started a war with me to see who could be done first and he's at like, 25k now. So. Now I have to catch up to said dweeb. I was telling my friend this tragic story about him pulling ahead of me, and she said, "Maybe he's somewhere cursing you, too." And that was when I decided she was amazing at encouraging me xD **

**I'm trying to be mature about this war, but ughhh he's not even doing anything on the side, and I am ;-; I'm doing so many freaking fanfictions on the side ;-; and my stomach's been hurting all day and it's finally stopped and now I want to eat something, but I just don't know what. And also, I want to blow off writing and rewatch the Lorax. For some reason, I have an urge to watch all the Onceler scenes. Especially the scene where his mother comes to the valley, and is all like, "Oncie, is that you?" Which I don't know why, because I can't stand the mother whatsoever. Or O'Hare, for that matter. **

**Speaking of the Lorax...I'd better update Drifting soon, huh? Where does the time go, crud...**

**Also, for the sake of my more distressed readers, please don't be too angry with me for killing off a character that some of you might have grown to like. I know quite a few of you had mixed feelings about it, but to be honest, and not to give too much away, but Hiccup needs to be completely alone for the plot to actually get started. So Humongous was done away with rather quickly.**

**Also, I want to address the fact that Hiccup pulls himself together rather quickly after Humongous' death. In my observations, he's the kind of person who never gives up when there's something to be done. For instance, in HTTYD2, when all the...things happened (I skate around the topic for the sake of those who haven't yet seen it) Hiccup bounced back rather quickly, and I felt that that was because there was still all the other junk to be taken care of, and he just couldn't allow himself to properly feel anything about it until all that junk was taken care of. So. **

* * *

I didn't want to leave Humongous' side. I clung to his cold white hand, staring down into the pale face, but I didn't want to get up. I knew that's what I should have done. I should have gotten up, tried to locate where Berk was, and gone there when the first chance arose, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't imagine doing something that complicated when I could barely even move.

I stared down in numb shock at the Hero I had come to admire. He'd tried to teach me how to sword fight for days on end, despite the fact that I could barely lift any weapons. And he'd rescued me from Alvin's cell, and he'd called me little Hiccup, which would have been an annoying and demeaning nickname coming from anybody but him. And he'd saved me from that ice dragon, and…he'd been so nice to me when I was on Berk, and…

With a sudden jolt, I realized I was remembering things from my stay on Berk. Little flashes, mere snippets of things I half-remembered, but memories all the same. Humongous arguing with Stoick the Vast, Humongous lending me his coat when I stood there sodden and shivering, Humongous taking me aside, telling me that I couldn't trust somebody…_but who_?

I struggled to remember, struggled to grasp onto it, but nothing was coming to me. My brain kept shying away, as if trying to tell me that I wasn't getting any more snippets.

I gave Humongous' hand a light squeeze, half-expecting him to offer me one in return. It seemed so wrong to me that those blue eyes would never again open, I would never see them gain that twinkle of adventure. I would never see him smile again. I would never hear him call me little Hiccup. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Humongous just seemed permanent to me, immortal. He would always be around, always and forever, no matter who else fell around him. I couldn't imagine _him_ being the fallen.

Distant, sudden voices made me glance up, towards the water. "We'll find him!" Alvin cried, slamming a fist into his palm for emphasis. "We'll find them, make no mistake about it!"

"I saw him land there!" One of the Outcasts volunteered eagerly, pointing to an island outside my line of vision.

"No, he landed over there!" Another pointed at the shore I currently rested on, and my heart sped up slightly.

"We'll check both areas, to be sure!" Alvin barked. "Mother, you come with me, we'll check there," he tilted his head again, in the direction where Humongous and I resided. "Savage, Kar, Rin and Dundle, you all come with me as well. The rest of you can go check out the other island."

These words made me jump to my feet, but I glanced down at Humongous' still form one last time. I had heard words of sorrow spoken before over people I cared about, but somehow it seemed wrong to just walk away without doing anything for him. I could have even done something small, like lighting a little candle beside him and holding it there until it burned out, or something like that, but there were no candles here.

It just felt so wrong to leave. Humongous had given his life for mine. I slowly sank to my knees again, stared down into the pale face, gave the cold hand another squeeze. "Goodbye, Humongous."

The Hero lay still.

"Thank you," I whispered to him softly, unable to take my eyes off him. I knew I should have gotten up long ago, but I could hear the boat drawing farther away, and I couldn't move. "Thank you for…for everything, you were…such a great Hero, I…I can't even begin to describe how much I admire you. Your bravery. I…I don't understand how somebody could be…that brave that they'd…they'd give their life for somebody else's. Somebody who doesn't matter as much. But you won't have done it in vain, I promise. I wasn't worth dying for today, but I'll make sure that you didn't do this in vain. I'll make sure of that."

I slowly eased my hand off Humongous', staring down at him for a long second. This was final. If I stood up and left now, I would be letting him go. I would be saying goodbye.

I slowly rose to my feet, but I didn't walk away right then. I continued to watch him, knowing that he wasn't going to move, knowing that by now, even the blood had ceased its flowing. He wasn't going to suddenly rise up and ruffle my hair again; he wasn't here to help me anymore. But he had given me his all. He had tried to help me. And I had failed at returning the favor.

But he wasn't going to die in vain. I felt sure of that. I was not going to let that happen. I swallowed and took a deep breath. I watched the ship drawing ever nearer to us, this tiny little island. I ducked away, behind the growing vegetation, hoping to lose myself in the forest. If I couldn't find my way back to the beach, I hoped that the Outcasts wouldn't be able to, either.

I went left for a bit and began leaving a false trail. I knew that Alvin was used to me trying to escape, and would probably think I had learned the best way to cover my tracks, but with any luck, this would fool him at least for a little while. Long enough to let me go in the opposite direction, get a bit of a head start.

It was kind of slow going for a bit, because I had to be gentle with my shoulder, which increased my feelings of helpless weakness. That was the emotion that plagued me when I dared to allow my thoughts to stray to Humongous, still sleeping peacefully on the beach. I regretted that he wasn't going to receive a proper Viking funeral, like he deserved, but the tide had been coming in when I'd left him there, and I hoped that the water would come in and carry him out to sea. My own little version of a funeral. It was the best I could do, but it wasn't enough.

And when the Outcasts reached shore, I paused for a moment, watching them through the thick trees as I ran back the way I'd come, biting my tongue so I wouldn't cry out when branches scratched at my injured shoulder. I didn't know what was wrong with it, if it was broken or fractured or just dislocated, but whatever it was, I had heard something snap and it hurt like hell.

"Where has he gone?" Alvin barked suddenly and I stopped cold, cradling my shoulder and realizing they had found Humongous. The tide had not brought him out yet, so he still lay there on the beach, looking as if he were doing nothing more than sleeping.

He put an ear to the man's chest, listening.

"Alvin," Savage rasped. "Alvin, don't waste your time. He's dead."

Alvin froze. And then his lips curled up into a smile. "Oh. Perfect." I didn't sense any sarcasm in the statement, and I was usually good at catching it, so it confused me.

Savage looked frightened for his chief's sanity. "Alvin…?"

"Don't any of you get it? The boy's all alone somewhere on this island! Stumbling around, probably crying his weak little heart out and leaving a trail of clues so wide that any idiot could track him! This is _perfect_!"

"Why doesn't the woman just track him?" One of the men demanded, raising a taunting brow.

The white-haired woman folded her hands and stared serenely at the Outcast challenging her. "I'm afraid I'm unable to do so on an island like this. So don't ask me again."

_An island like this? _

Good news for me. But confusing.

And Alvin's news was also good news for me. He thought I was mad with grief, and too stupid to remember that he'd be looking for me. But he'd underestimated me. I was one step ahead of him this time, and now it was his move.


	4. Burglar Alarm

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 4: Burglar Alarm

**A/N: Awkward chapter title. Awkward chapter. Awkward everything. Frick, guys, this wasn't even in the freaking outline. This was completely made up. I really like what's coming next, though, way too much to do away with this rather awkward chapter.**

**In other news, I hit 23k on Camp! :D and I can never convince anybody to play chess with me, because apparently I always win or some nonsense, so I tried a computerized version and I beat it in five seconds on one round xD **

* * *

When I heard Alvin and his men blundering down the false trail, I started in the opposite direction, one hand on my bad shoulder as I stumbled painfully through the bracken and heather. I thought I heard them calling to each other for a bit, excitedly reporting signs of my presence in the woods, but a sudden, shrill chirping noise drove them straight from my mind. I wasn't sure where it was coming from, but I stared at the suddenly rustling bushes apprehensively, half-waiting for Savage or one of the other Outcasts to jump out at me and drag me away.

To my relief, however, it was just a small, bright gold dragon that hopped out of the brush and blinked large black eyes up at me, tilting his head questioningly.

I offered him a wave. The dragon stared up at me curiously for a second, and I knelt down so the little guy wouldn't crane his neck. He hopped cautiously up onto my arm, but it was clear that he was too young to have yet been taught all the dangers of Vikings.

He crawled up onto my good shoulder, staring into my eyes with a kind of fierce intensity. He gave my neck a delicate sniff, my cheek a hasty lick, and then he flapped off, flopping onto the ground, his wings at an awkward angle. I had never seen a breed like this before, but by the shape of his wings, I suspected he wasn't a very capable flier.

He jumped up onto his feet the moment he touched the ground, and began scrabbling endlessly at the dirt.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slightly amused, for once forgetting all about the Outcasts. "Searching for buried treasure or something?"

The dragon looked at me and nodded seriously before returning to his task.

"Wait, you mean, like you're actually looking for buried treasure?" I demanded, leaning forward suddenly.

He nodded again, a little impatiently this time.

"Oh. Well, if there was any treasure, I think this is the last place I would expect anyone to bury—

He flicked a gold coin into my lap with his tail. I picked it up carefully, examining it. It was thick, and the sheen was so shiny and clear that I could see my reflection in it. I looked slightly crazy, all dark shadows beneath huge green eyes that looked too big for my face, and leaves and twigs tangled in my hair. I rarely ever thought about my appearance, if you didn't count my size, because I had long since given up on ever being good-looking.

I tossed the gold coin back at the dragon, who just cocked his head and gave me a questioning look. There were more gold coins in a pile beside him, a fact he seemed rather smug about.

"I can't just go around stealing money," I told the little creature, giving him a grateful head pat all the same. "I don't know when the true owners might be back to get it." I tossed the coin back into the shallow hole that the dragon had already made, and he looked slightly offended.

"Not that I don't appreciate the effort— I began quickly, but suddenly the creature rose up on his hind legs, looked to the sky and sniffed the air in acute concentration.

Without warning, he plunged into the thick green trees, and I followed after him without thinking, trying to call out for him quietly, which was impossible.

"What are you doing?" I panted when we finally emerged out onto the beach. My heart squeezed. The tide had still not stolen Humongous' cold white body away, but the dragon barely even registered that he was there.

He dived straight for the Hero, digging in the huge black pockets before drawing out a golden, dragon-shaped bracelet in his teeth, with a bright red jewel set within the eye. He dropped it into my hand, and I stared down at it for a second, sparkling and glittering in the spring sunlight. And then I tried to hand it back to the little dragon. "No, I'm sorry. I can't accept this. He was my friend, I can't go stealing his riches."

Again, the dragon seemed slightly offended, and he refused to take it back.

"No, you don't understand, I appreciate the thought, but I don't want—

"THERE HE IS!"

"WE'VE FOUND HIM!"

"Oh, no," I mumbled, taking off in the direction of the woods again, the dragon right behind me, weaving in and out of the trees the whole way there.

The clear, rich gold of the jewelry had been cold when I'd first held it, but it adjusted to the heat of my fingers, and slowly warmed in my hand as I ran as fast as I could. I could hear the Outcasts just behind me, crashing through the undergrowth, making as much noise as possible, probably to alert Alvin. Indeed, a few Outcasts stopped to launch arrows into the sky, and I heard cries from the far end of the island. I barely stayed ahead of them, the dragon flapping anxiously above me the whole way there.

"I'll be fine," I whispered to the little guy, trying to swat him away. "What's important is that you leave here. Alvin can be crueler to dragons than he is to humans—

The dragon fixed me with a rather stubborn look, and I gave up, before emerging into a clearing of startling beauty. The grass was a much brighter green than I was used to, and there were flowers of all kinds growing in a tight ring in the very center of the meadow. Birds and dragons alike, both with no fear of the other, sat in trees, the birds singing sweetly to the sky and the dragons flapping about in tight circles, performing daring tricks in midair.

For a moment, I forgot myself in the beauty around me, turning slowly on the spot, trying to memorize it all. The birds' sweet cries turned suddenly to chirps of fear, and the grass crumbled and crackled under my feet, instantly turning dead and brown as an Outcast launched himself in the clearing. I let out a cry as the flowers transformed suddenly into snakes, coiling themselves around the man and hissing loudly. The birds kept lamenting sadly, and every one of them turned their backs upon the meadow, put their heads beneath their wing, their trills going higher and higher. The flowers tightened their grip around the Outcast's chest, and the man's face turned blue. The grass rose beneath him and suddenly swallowed him whole, forcing him beneath the earth forever.

I couldn't hear the other Outcasts now, but then, I couldn't hear anything; I could only stare in shock at where the man had been sitting, only seconds before, feeling my heart pumping loudly in my ears. The golden dragon beside me chirped suddenly and I started; I had nearly forgotten he was there in the horror of what had just happened. The dragon tugged me frantically along, giving me a shove across the grass, returning suddenly to the emerald green it used to be.

"What…" I began shakily, tripping all over myself on trembling legs. "What just happened?"

I didn't really expect the dragon to have an answer, and the beast merely blinked solemnly at me, seemingly undeterred by the horrible death he had just witnessed.

"What was that?" I repeated, mostly to myself, wishing somebody else had an answer.

And then my wish came true.

"Oh, just a little burglar alarm, if you will," A voice spoke suddenly from somewhere above me, and I jumped, looking up and around myself for the speaker.


	5. Start Talking

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 5: Start Talking

**A/N: Welllll, I bet you guys can guess who the speaker is, huh? xD I made it painfully obvious, I felt, but some of you apparently guessed Valka, and not this guy xD But I liked this guy better, personally. Anyway. This chapter was actually tons of fun to write, even though I'm not really sure I kept him IC enough. **

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I looked around for the speaker, but I didn't see anyone. That is, until they dropped down from the tree above me, and he landed right in front of me. I gave a bit of a start, taking a couple quick steps backward. Hey, if this guy claimed that a garden that ate people was just a "little burglar alarm" who knew how crazy he was?

"Ah, ah, ah!" He held his hands up. "Relax." His smile was charming and friendly, but his hazel eyes were cold. He was good-looking, with brown hair parted on the sides, black war paint covering his chin, and thick fur clothing protecting him from the cold. "If my burglar alarm deemed you trustworthy, I'm certainly not going to go against its judgement."

"What do you mean?" I hated that I stuttered slightly, as if I was afraid of him. And I wasn't, honestly. Alvin was twice this guy's size. It was just that, I was a little shaky from everything that had happened that day, and I hope this is understandable.

He seemed to enjoy the stutter, because he kind of smirked. "My burglar alarm hasn't let anyone pass through for years. It normally takes the ones that are after my treasures."

"But…I'm not after your treasures…" I mumbled, mostly to myself.

He rolled his eyes. "I know that, idiot. What I mean is, the garden senses a person's greed. If that person is greedy, if they would gladly pillage all of my gold and jewels and leave me left for dead without even turning a hair, the garden…looks out for me. And takes away the possibility of that ever happening."

"By killing people?" I sputtered. "You're just as bad as the people after your treasure, then!"

He smiled. "Maybe. But hell, I'm alive and I'm rich. And I plan to stay that way. So, I'm sorry, but I can't have you running all over the Archipelago telling people about me."

"I don't even know your name!"

He shrugged. "I don't like taking risks."

"Listen, I'm just trying to—

"HUSH!" He suddenly jerked me down to the ground by my vest, inching out a little farther to peer between the trees.

Loud, thumping footsteps could be heard, and Alvin's men appeared from behind the trees. The only thing separating them from me was the garden. I had seen its horrors for myself, but I couldn't help the flash of fear when Alvin himself stepped onto the very edges of the bright green grass, looking around at the clearing. The white-haired woman appeared very suddenly behind him, and just in time, too: he had been about to set his foot down upon the grass.

"Wait!" she cried, making him turn. She grabbed at his wrist, tugging him away from the grass. "You can't go in there, any of you! That garden can kill you!"

Alvin cocked an eyebrow. Some of the men chuckled.

The woman's pale face flushed. "Go ahead! Go into the garden, all of you! You'll be sorry you didn't listen to me!"

"Why can't we just use your magic powers to get us out?" One of the men mocked.

"I told you, my magic won't help us here! Not on an island like this!"

"You're a fraud!"

"Enough!" Alvin snapped at the Outcast. "If she says to leave this place alone, we leave it alone!"

I glanced over at the man beside me to see his eyes had gone wide, his mouth hanging in a perfect 'O' shape. When those wide eyes landed on Alvin, he looked as scared as I felt. I nudged him gently with my shoulder. He glanced back at me, biting his lip nervously. When Alvin disappeared back into the trees, taking his Outcasts and the white-haired woman with him, the man was instantly on his feet, almost wringing his hands. "Outcasts! On my shores!"

I watched him pacing back and forth, clearly terrified, and realized I had brought a battle to a place of relative peace. If you could call a man-eating garden peaceful, I guess. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, picking at a blade of grass as I spoke. "I had no idea there were other people living here, I thought this place was deserted…"

"Outcasts!" he cried again, but then he seemed to hear me, his mouth drawing up into a sneer. "What about you?! Are you an Outcast, too?!"

"No!" I managed quickly, holding up my hands to defend myself before lowering them slightly. "Well…I guess I am…I mean, I'm not, I'm really not, because I'm not like them, and apparently my father is Stoick the Vast, the chief of Berk and all, but…" I cut myself off when I realized how much I was telling this perfect stranger.

"Outcast, but not an Outcast?" He raised one eyebrow, giving a little chuckle. "Make up your mind, man, are you or aren't you?"

"I'm not," I said firmly. "I'm definitely not."

"Then why do you apologize?"

"Because…because…" I hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. "The Outcasts are looking for me."

His eyes darkened. "What have you done to them?"

"Nothing," I replied heatedly, before Toothless came flitting to the forefront of my mind. And then I sighed. "Well, apparently something, according to their chieftain, but I don't really see what's so wrong about it."

"What'd you do?" he demanded.

"I don't see why that's any of your—

Within seconds, his blade was pressing into my throat, cold metal on my skin. "You forget, my garden isn't the only thing on this island that knows how to kill. Start talking, and I might let you live."


	6. Promise

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 6: Promises

**A/N: Okay, um, how stupid is this chapter, on a scale of 1-10? 10 being the stupidest and 1 being the best. IDK, guys. I just do not know. You guys probably think this guy is Drago now. It's not. I really need to get around to Hiccup learning his name huh -.- I'll cover that in chapter 7. **

* * *

It's not easy to think when a blade is at your throat, inches away from separating your head from your shoulders. And I saw in the man's unblinking, unflinching golden eyes that he would not bat an eye if he had to kill me.

My mouth was dry, so I licked my lips and swallowed, trying to suck in a breath, despite the sword pressing into my air passageways. "Can you move your sword a little, I can barely breathe," I managed to choke out.

He frowned. "What did you think was my intention?"

"To kill me before I can even clear my name?" My eyes watered and I coughed, pulling away slightly, taking a grateful breath before his sword was back in its original position, pressing into my neck.

His frown grew bigger, and he adjusted the sword slightly. "Stay still," he instructed angrily. "And talk. I'm sure you can fight the discomfort."

"Um…okay…I did something the Outcasts didn't like, and now they're looking for revenge. I mean, they already got revenge, considering those four years that they had me locked away in a cell, but…"

He raised an eyebrow, but those golden eyes softened just slightly. "Four years in a cell?"

I started to nod, and then became concerned that this would lead to getting a nick, so I just confirmed it with words instead. "It was a bit of a downer."

Unexpectedly, he smiled. His eyes twinkled with just the faintest hint of amusement. "What did you do to receive such a sentence?"

I bit my lip.

He waited patiently, but the sword inched closer, threatening to restrict my breathing again.

"You won't believe me, even if I say it," I said, my voice a little choked from the blade. This, I decided, was the last time I wanted to get up close and personal with a weapon owned by somebody who wanted to kill me. I had had far too much experience with that.

"Try me," he replied.

"I trained a dragon."

He smirked. "I believe you."

"So, you don't believe dragons are virtually untrainable creatures?" I asked hopefully, sitting up a little straighter. Hey, if this guy believed the same as I did about dragons, maybe we were off to a slightly better start than we had been ten minutes ago.

"Of course not." He rolled his eyes. "People just jump to conclusions, and Vikings think that fighting the world is going to take them places."

"Are you friends with the dragons on this island, then?"

He stared at me for a second, and that odd softness in his eyes disappeared. He threw back his head and laughed, as if waiting for me to get the joke as well. I offered a soft chortle, as if thinking that I had told one all along.

"Friends?" he demanded finally, once he'd recovered from his laughing fit. "Dragons aren't our friends, boy. They're just stupid animals, and they're beneath us."

"That's not true!" I countered hotly. "Dragons are just like the rest of us, they're just as…just as human, some of them even more so—

"No wonder the Outcasts locked you up!" He exclaimed, still with that cold and aloof amusement lingering in his tone. "They did it for your own good! Hell, I have half a mind to chuck you back out there with them right now!"

"No!" My mind jumped from the heated debate about dragons to what Alvin would do to me if this man really did that. "No, you can't!"

"It'd be fairly easy, actually," he told me. "I could fling you over one shoulder like a toddler. I bet you're not even sixty pounds."

"I'm _seventy_!" I corrected angrily. "And you can't throw me out there to Alvin, you really can't, I…don't. Don't." I didn't want to beg him. I didn't want to lower myself to that, so I didn't add 'please' or anything like that – I tried to sound more commanding than pathetic.

"Are you sure their cell wasn't a makeshift asylum?" he asked.

"Very sure," I snapped. "I'm not crazy, and I can prove that dragons can be friends!"

"Oh, this I have to see," he responded simply.

I scowled at him, turning to grab the golden dragon that had been digging up the treasure, but he wasn't there. He had disappeared, seemingly into thin air. "I can prove it—wait, where did he go?"

The man chuckled lightly. "You see? Dragons can't be friends! They aren't loyal to anyone! The only way to control them is through fear!"

"That's not true!"

"Then why did that dragon abandon you when it saw you were being threatened?" When I didn't respond, a smirk stretched across his face. "You know it's true. Dragons are heartless creatures, and the only way to get through to them is to just trap them and force them to work for you."

"Is that what you've been doing then!" It was strange to feel so angry, because that was not an emotion high on my list of the often felt. Sadness and fear were much closer to the top than anger was. "You take the dragons from this island, and you beat them until they fear you and you—

His eyes widened. "You've got this all wrong! I don't lay a hand on those creatures! I did what I _had_ to do when I washed up here! And they're all a bunch of brainless lizards anyway, why should you care!"

"One of my best friends is a dragon!"

"I guarantee he only stays with you because he's afraid of you."

"He's not afraid of me! I never once used fear as a motivator with him! He _trusts_ me!"

"Well, he doesn't need you otherwise."

I frowned at the truth in his statement. "Well, that doesn't matter! The point is, he doesn't stay with me out of fear. He stays with me because he's my _friend_."

"Uh-huh." He shook his head, clearly amused. "Listen, I think maybe things might be better for all of us if you just walked back the way you came, and let the Outcasts have their way with you."

"I would rather hang myself from the nearest tree," I snapped furiously. "And if you don't believe what I'm telling you about dragons, then let me show you! Hold on…watch…hold on…we'll need to find a dragon, obviously…do you know where they all are?"

"Oh, this is going to be worth a laugh," he crossed his arms, leaning against the nearest tree. "Maybe the dragons will take care of you themselves, and I won't have to deal with your blood on my hands as well."

"Not that you'd care," I replied coldly. "You clearly have no qualms." I gestured to his carnivorous garden just outside the thicket of trees.

He rolled his eyes. "You're still on the burglar alarm, aren't you? Listen, you don't even need to steer clear of it! I can't imagine why – that is unimaginably rare, my garden letting somebody pass through…I kept waiting for it to swallow you up, too, but you were still standing, even after the other man was already gone. What is that about?"

"I'm not interested in your treasure."

"Then why are you so interested in the treasure-hunting dragons?"

"Because what I'm interested in is that you stop killing them. Also, I kind of need a ride off this island, so—

He shook his head. "Dragons don't deal well with riders. I found that out the hard way." He kind of winced, and I shuddered to think what methods he had used to get on the creature's back.

"I ride the dragon that I befriended that I was telling you about."

His eyebrows flew up. "You discovered the way to ride them?" he leaned forward, away from the tree trunk almost excitedly, as if this was information he had been waiting for all his life.

I nodded hesitantly. "But I'm only going to show you how if you promise not to use them anymore. And to train them with love instead of fear."

He gave me an odd look, and he was silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, "You…are a very strange boy. Hasn't anyone taught you yet that promises aren't worth dust? That people never keep them?"

My stomach clenched. "Of course they have. I was on Outcast Island, remember?"

"Then why do you ask me to give you my promise?"

I gave it a second or two before I spoke again. "The only thing I _can_ do is take your word for it."

He rolled his eyes. "You could do whatever you do with any dragon on this island, train it and ride it and fly away with it, and leave me behind. Do you know nothing about this world?"

"I know I could do that," I responded. "But I'm not going to. I'm going to show you that making dragons live in fear is no way to make them live. And you want to learn to ride, so I'm going to show you how."


	7. Bonding

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 7: Bonding

**A/N: I planned to write on this yesterday, but I went and saw HTTYD2 and JUST FREAKING YES I SAW IT AGAIN OH MY GOD *foams at the mouth* I NEED IT I NEED IT I forgot how much I loved it x3 I freaking need to talk about it with someone and I mostly discuss things on my ANs, so if you guys could tell me if you have or haven't seen it, so I know if it's okay to talk about it, would you do that? Also, what do you think of this chapter? **

**Oh, and I know a couple people wanted Valka to show up, but let me clear it up right now: Stoick's wife is definitely dead in this AU. She died in front of Stoick's eyes, the midwife's eyes and her son's eyes, although of course Hiccup was too young to remember. There is just no way to explain that away, and besides that, I have no desire to. Valka was an okay person, not exactly the best mother, seeing as she left her son for twenty years, but okay. But in this AU, she would only slow the plot down.**

* * *

Teaching people how to ride dragons was something I had never done before, but I vaguely recalled somebody once telling me that I was a good teacher. Can't remember their name or their face, of course, but I remember their compliment, because I'm egotistical like that.

Anyway, back to the subject. I wasn't sure how good I was going to be at teaching this man how to ride a dragon, but that wasn't even the first step. The first step was finding the dragons and he said that they liked to gather at the watering hole. I noticed with relief that he'd sheathed his knife when we first set out, and seemed in no hurry to get it out again, but the closer and closer we drew, the more nervous he became. He drew out his knife again, beginning to play with it.

"You're gonna want to put that away," I warned him. "Dragons don't like weapons."

He nervously fingered it. "How about I just, ah, keep it out for a bit."

"How about you just, ah, don't?" I raised an eyebrow. "There's really nothing to fear…?" I trailed off, waiting.

He didn't get it. "Really nothing to fear…?"

"Well, it just occurred to me that I don't know your name, so I don't know what to call you."

"I don't know yours."

I had to smile, even if it was small. "Okay, fair enough. Since we don't know each other's names, we could try and start our first meeting over, and pretend there was no carnivorous garden, Outcasts or threats of bloody death by sword involved."

He offered a kind of anxious smile back. "Well, then, hello there. I'm…I'm Eret." It seemed to take a great deal of effort to say his name, and it occurred to me that he probably didn't trust very easily, considering his burglar alarm and threats.

"I'm Hiccup." I tried not to show my own hesitancy at revealing my identity, hoping that a ready response would put him more at ease. "And—what is this?"

"Oh, the watering hole is underground," he tugged me into the dark, tight space and I shuddered, trying to pull my arm away.

"Um, I'm not really big on being underground, so—

"Tough beans." Eret responded without an ounce of sympathy. "I'm not really big on fire-breathing lizards. C'mon."

I sucked in a breath, because I knew it would feel like I was trapped in an airless room once I descended. I took a quick step downward, saying a silent goodbye to the sky until I could come back out again. I hated not being able to see the endless stretch of blue when I looked up.

As Eret led me farther into the darkness, I realized that it actually wasn't so bad down here. Once we got deeper in, the soft orange glow from a fire lit the space, and the cramped tunnel opened into a wide underground space, with dragons standing on the edge of the water, taking sips from the cool blue, or diving in for a swim. Scauldrons popped up from the water from time to time, shooting a spray at another dragon, but it of course didn't affect the dragons, being fire-breathers. A few of them even regarded it as a game, taking their own sips of water and spitting it at the Scauldrons.

A Thunderdrum raced up from the water with fish in his teeth, and he dropped the pile in front of a few Zipplebacks and Gronckles. I knew that a trait in many dragons was selfishness, but the kindness and generosity displayed here was like nothing I had ever seen. I couldn't help but smile, my heart swelling as I watched it. I didn't know any of these dragons, but I felt a strange connection with them as I scampered down, fearless.

Eret was not nearly as ease. He hovered at the mouth of the tunnel for a moment, and I honestly think he would have lingered there forever had I not given him a long look, making him edge out and into the open space.

He fingered his knife again, and I shot him a scowl, shaking my head. He reluctantly sheathed it.

"What do I do now?" He asked in a soft voice when he reached me.

"Well, it's not gonna be done quite the way that you do it," I told him, approaching a pale purple Nadder to emphasize this. "You don't just jump on his back and hope for the best. You have to bond with him first. Like…like this!" I reached into my vest, before remembering I had not gathered any dragon nip, and wasn't even sure if this island grew any. I closed my vest again with a sigh and a shrug. Calming dragons was always easier with nip, but I didn't need it.

I slowed my steps the closer I drew to the dragon, who stared me down for a long second with intelligent yellow eyes, sizing me up.

"Hey, big guy," I whispered, staying in front of him at all times, letting him know I didn't plan on taking advantage of his blind spot. I reached under the chin, beginning to scratch him gently.

The dragon relaxed, sinking into my touch.

When I tore my eyes away to look at Eret, he looked astounded.

"How…how are you doing that?" he whispered, edging nearer to me. There was something in his gaze when he looked at me and the dragon – longing. As if he wanted to have whatever I had with the Nadder, even though this bond wasn't even formed yet, and was laughable to the one I had with Toothless.

I scratched the dragon as I spoke, moving from the chin onto the neck. "It's…well, it's…I can't explain it, really. You're just going to have to try it for yourself." I brought my hand higher, falling quiet as I touched the Nadder's nose. He purred deep in his throat, leaning into my touch.

"You're amazing," he whispered in awe.

"Anybody can do it," I shrugged, taking my hand off the Nadder's nose and beginning to pet his snout. He closed his eyes rapturously. "It's just, not a lot of people think to try."

Eret looked thoughtful.

"Here, you try!"

"What?!"

"Just give it a shot!"

"Is that how you teach people to ride dragons? Just touch their snout and then send your pupil off to try themselves?"

"Riding a dragon and bonding with one are two completely different things." I tried not to sound as insulted as I felt. "Look, I'm right here if you want some help, okay? I'm here."

He swallowed and took a breath before taking a step towards the Nadder.

"No sudden movements," I hissed. "You'll scare him."

"It's a him?"

I considered. "No idea. If you want to check—

"Nonono, if you say it's a boy, then he's a boy. I trust your judgement on this."

"That's a step in the right direction. No sudden moves, remember."

"Got that." He took another slow step closer.

"No sudden moves doesn't mean walk like you're ninety, it means just take it slow."

"Look, you do this how you want to do it, and let me do it how I want to do it, okay?"

"Whatever."

I watched in interest as he approached the Nadder at a snail's pace. "What do I do now?" he stage-whispered to me.

"Keep to the front. They have a blind spot, and they don't like people taking advantage of that, so keep to the front and make it clear you're not going to."

"Alright. Got it. Do I just touch his – its – nose now?"

I shrugged. "I'm not a walking, talking dragon manual. He should react better, considering I've already calmed him a bit, but if you have any dragon nip, that should work really well for a first time."

His brow knitted. "Dragon nip?"

"I thought you were some sort of expert on killing them," I responded. "Shouldn't you know what nip is?"

"I don't kill them, I just get them to collect treasure for me."

"Wait, wait, wait, is that how you got your treasure?"

"Yes! What, do you want my autobiography? Would that make things easier for you to grasp?"

I scowled. "No. That's not what I want. What do you do to make them collect it?"

"Despite what you think, I don't mistreat them."

"You didn't answer my question."

He huffed out a breath. "Telling you my name, and seeing you survive my garden does _not_ mean that I trust you."

"You do know by now that I don't give a whit for your treasure?"

"Why do you even care so much about the dragons?"

"Just bond with him." I gestured to the Nadder, who was looking between us a little suspiciously. "You'll understand, then."


	8. Eret's Hideout

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 8: Eret's Hideout

**A/N: Or, the one where everybody shrugs and Eret and Hiccup have some friendly banter xD I guess I like this chapter, but the ending doesn't feel proper. Eh, well. Life's too short. Chapter 9 should be up soon! Thank you guys for all the reviews! **

**And I super wish we could all go see HTTYD2 together. Like, all of us. And I would gladly foot the bill x3 because I notice that a lot of you really wanted to go see it again. And you guys make my day just by checking out my story, so I wish I could take all of my readers and bring them to the theater with me. :-) **

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Watching Eret bond with the Nadder was at first gratifying and then increasingly painful when I remembered my own dragon, miles away from me on the island of Berk, stuck there with a potentially abusive chieftain. I could feel my smile disappearing off my face, even as Eret's slowly grew, becoming more genuine, and he relaxed his stiff position.

"I've spent years with these dragons," he whispered, scratching the purple creature under the chin, just like I had, "and I never thought I'd get this close."

I shook my head. "We need to leave, as soon as we can."

"What?" Eret finally tore his eyes away from the dragon, looking at me questioningly.

"Leaving. That's what you wanted to do, right? We can't stay here forever."

"No," he admitted softly, looking back at the Nadder. "No, you're right, we can't…but I don't think we should leave yet."

"I don't want to wait any longer. I've been separated from my own dragon long enough."

"No. Wait." He grabbed at my sleeve before I could do anything, and though he was pretty brawny, he was stronger than he looked, and I didn't try to pull away. "Dragons normally travel in packs, right?"

"Not all of them. The Night Fury prefers solitude—

"But do the Nadders?"

"…Well, okay, they fly in packs…"

"If just one single Nadder flies around and off the island before the others do as well, the Outcasts are probably going to know it's you, especially considering that training dragons is what they locked you up for to begin with. They'll be after you so fast that you won't even know it. I don't think it's a good idea for us to leave yet."

I could see the sense in what he was saying, much as I didn't want to. I looked at the Nadder again, feeling once more that painful longing for Toothless. "Well, if the Outcasts just decide to set up camp here…"

"They're looking for you, didn't you say that?"

I nodded reluctantly.

"Won't they just assume you've found a quieter, less noticeable way off this island, and try to find you again?"

"Maybe," I admitted sourly.

He released his grip on my tunic. "So, as I was saying, they're probably gonna be gone by tomorrow morning. I think it'd be best if we stayed overnight."

I glared reluctantly at the floor. "I don't like it. I want to leave."

"But if you leave, Hiccup, you'll be waving a neon sign in their faces, just daring them to track you. Believe me, they'll probably take you up on that offer."

"I'd think you'd be eager to leave, too, considering you've wanted to for how long now?"

"I'm not like you. I've waited. I can wait one more night."

So, this is what led to us crashing through the forest, and by now the sun was setting and a kind of cold breeze had sprung up, biting at my skin even through my fabric. "Do you even know where we are?"

"I know this forest like the back of my hand, Hiccup," he responded easily. "Don't fret, I know exactly where we are."

"No, you don't. We passed by that tree an hour ago. And where are you even taking me?"

He stepped out into a clearing, revealing his garden once more. His carnivorous garden.

I swallowed. "Is there another way?"

"Nope!" he said cheerfully, as the Nadder skidded to a stop behind me, giving me a gentle push forward. "And, like I said, you have nothing to fear, anyway. If it left you alone once, I'm pretty sure it'll leave you alone twice."

"Pretty sure. How satisfying," I grumbled. "And have you even thought about him?" I flung out an arm to indicate the dragon. "Will it eat him?"

"It reads the minds and hearts of humans, not dragons. C'mon."

"Shouldn't it read the minds of all species?"

"Look, this wasn't a customized garden, okay? I got here, I found out there was a man-eating garden, and I did what I could with what I got." He entered the clearing fearlessly, tugging me along behind him. The Nadder flew over the clearing, flying low so as not to alert Alvin and the Outcasts.

"Wait, so you didn't plant this garden?"

"When I first washed up here, what use would I have had for a garden like this? Now, I actually have something to protect."

"Why did you make a home here? Why didn't you try to find your way back to your island?"

"I'm not a Viking, Hiccup," he said brusquely. "I don't belong to an island. I'm a Wanderer."

I tried not to look so surprised, but I think I failed when I said, "Oh."

He hauled me along the final stretch of bright green grass, and down through the dark path where he'd cornered and threatened me. "You don't sound very happy."

"I thought Vikings and Wanderers had this age-old feud."

"Your people enslaved mine."

"Oh. I'm sorry about that."

Eret shrugged. "I wasn't concerned when I realized you were a Viking. I could take you."

"Why does nobody ever regard me as a threat? I could be as muscled and tough as any hardcore Viking. What if I just choose not to be?"

"Don't make me laugh," he responded, stepping easily in between two trees. "Right. Here we are! The place I call my own." He gestured grandly to a wizened old tree, bent and twisted and completely out of shape.

"Impressive. You sleep in a tree?"

"Not in the branches, idiot. Hold on." He walked forward, towards the tree and, next second, I was blinking to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. He had leaned forward and opened up the tree trunk without even hesitating. It swung open like a tiny door and I drew back with a gasp.

"How did you _do_ that?"

"I'm a Wanderer, like I said," he shrugged, but pride was evident in his voice. "I can make a home anywhere."

Eret opened the door wide enough to slip inside, gesturing for me and the Nadder to follow.

"No wonder you warmed to him so fast," I said, giving the Nadder an affectione pat on the nose. "Don't Wanderers have no fear or something like that?"

"The hearts of polar bears," he corrected instantly, shutting the door behind me and crossing the tiny room to the hearth.

There was a door thrown wide on the other end of the room and a glint of gold caught my eye. When I looked in, I gasped. That surely must have been his treasure, thick gold coins and plates and cups and bright jewels, red and purple and every color imaginable. The sparkle they gave off was beautifully entrancing, but I suddenly understood why the garden had not claimed me: I felt no desire for the treasure. I noticed there was a heavy black key in the door's dirty lock, and I shut the door and turned the key until the lock clicked.

He looked up at the sound, but he didn't try to stop me. "You found the treasure, huh?"

"I thought you said just because you told me your name didn't mean you trusted me," I replied, tossing him the key.

He caught it without even looking up. "Shut up, kid."

"Just saying, letting somebody near your treasure is kind of careless."

"Listen, just because the garden didn't eat you doesn't mean I won't kill you still if you don't stop talking."

The Nadder took pity on Eret's weak attempts to start a fire and blasted one into the hearth, making him jump back in surprise before giving the dragon a grateful smile and a stroke.

"I don't think you'll kill me."

"Try me."

"If you were going to, you would have had your knife out by now."

"Maybe I'm going to kill you in your sleep."

"Doubtful. I have trouble sleeping, anyway, so I could outlast you."

"I would love to see you try, Mr. Hardcore Viking."

"I am a hardcore Viking."

"Mm-hm."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not. You're half my size."

"Three-fourths."

"One-fourth."

"That, mister, was uncalled for in the extreme."

"But it _was_ true," he pointed out with a shrug.

"I disagree."

Eret rolled his eyes at me. "Are you hungry?"

I shrugged. "Bit."

"Well, stop making nasty comments and I'll give you something to eat."

"Oh, how nice…"


	9. Trust Me

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 9: Trust Me

**A/N: So, I'm really tired and kinda down, but THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS ON UNTOLD LIKE OH MY GOSH REALLY WHYYYY :DDD THANK YOU SO MUCH I WILL WRITE CHAPTER 83 SOON **

**P.S: Also, I'm writing a new HTTYD modern AU, 'Hard Knocks'. It should come with many Hiccup/Stoick feels, if you want to read it x3**

* * *

"You'd better try and get some sleep," Eret told me once we had finished eating. He tossed a couple thick quilts at me and grabbed a couple up for himself. "I expect the Outcasts will be gone tomorrow morning."

I nodded, my eyes straying to the Nadder once again as I thought of Toothless. I had to admit that staying here made more sense than charging off, but I couldn't help it, I just wanted to get back to my dragon as fast as possible.

Eret glanced curiously over at me as he picked up a wooden bucket filled with water to douse the fire. "You okay? You look like you're a million miles away."

I tried to shrug it off. "Yeah. Just miss Toothless, I guess."

I heard the bucket clunk onto the floor and I turned to see water spilling out of it, but Eret hardly seemed to care; he did nothing but stare at me for a full five minutes before finally managing to rasp out, "Is Toothless your dragon?"

I nodded uncertainly.

"Is he really toothless?"

"Er…no," I admitted. "He's just got retractable teeth, which was why…"

Eret slumped against the wall, completely disregarding the water pooling up in front of him. "Your dragon is called _Toothless_, and he's got _retractable teeth_?"

"I know it's kind of weird," I shrugged, "but the nickname sort of stuck, and—

"You're it," he whispered, head now in his hands.

"What?" I leaned closer to him, crawling out of my nest of blankets.

He raised his head to look at me, and I was startled to see that there were tears in his eyes. "You're it. You're it. You've got the fang-free dragon! But…I never expected it to be somebody like you…" he eyed my embarrassingly skinny physique. "I dunno, I guess they just described you like such a great Hero—

"Who did? Eret, _what are you talking about_?"

The sound of his own name seemed to jar Eret, because he blinked a couple times, banishing the tears before swallowing. "You don't know? Nobody…nobody ever told you what you were…?"

I shook my head cautiously. "Alvin isn't exactly the warm and fuzzy type who answers all your questions."

"You can say that again," he muttered bitterly, before raising his voice a bit. "I just can't believe you don't know, I mean…if it had been me, I would have found out everything I could…I…I guess…" he looked at the fire for a second, seemingly mesmerized by the dancing flames. "Well, years and years ago, there was a prophecy. The Wanderers are, above all, known for being amazing Soothsayers. I come from a long line, in fact." He seemed very proud of this fact before adding reluctantly, "I think the gift skipped a generation, though, I have no seer abilities at all…anyway, years ago, Grimbeard the Ghastly made a prophecy. It was known all over the Archipelago, but every Soothsayer who heard it copied it down, and remembered it, repeating it to their children, making them learn the story by heart so they might one day identify the true subject of the prophecy when they saw him. The Vikings, over time, rejected the prophecy, claiming it was nothing but lies, but the Wanderers and Soothsayers memorized it."

Eret looked at me pointedly for a long moment before continuing. "And well, the prophecy…it went like this:

"_The Dragontime is coming,_

_And only a King can save you now._

_This King shall be,_

_The Champion of Champions._

_You shall know the King,_

_By the King's Lost Things. _

_A fang-free dragon, my second-best sword,_

_An arrow-from-the-land-that-does-not-exist,_

_The heart's stone, the key-that-opens-all-locks,_

_The ticking-thing, the Throne, the Crown, _

_And last and best of all the ten,_

_The Dragon Jewel will save all men." _

Eret finished flawlessly and stared at me for a long second, obviously waiting for me to get it.

It took a few minutes before I did. "But…I'm…I'm not the King."

"If you have the Lost Things, you are!"

"But I don't have any of those!"

"You have the fang-free dragon, don't you?"

"Retractable teeth," I corrected instantly, but this didn't stop Eret.

"The second-best sword, right?"

"I don't own a sword at all," I responded.

"A Roman shield?"

I shook my head.

A touch of desperation entered Eret's golden eyes. "An arrow from the land that does not exist?"

I started to shake, but then I thought for a second. "Well, I mean, I did have this arrow once, back when I became convinced that I could learn archery…and, well, I heard tell that it was supposedly from America, but…I mean, I have no idea if it was, obviously. And besides, Alvin took it away from me."

Eret jumped to his feet, his excitement rekindled. "The heart's stone?"

My mind jumped to the dragon bracelet in my vest, with the heart-shaped ruby set in the eye. "I don't know…" I pulled it out and handed it to him for examination.

He let out a yell of delight. "This is it! Do you have the key, the key that opens all locks?"

"I…I did have a key once," I admitted. "And I was told that it could open any lock, any lock in the world, no matter how difficult it was, but again, Alvin took it."

"And the ticking-thing?"

I hesitated. I really didn't want to give Eret false hope, but I nodded. "I escaped once to Hysteric Isle, and wound up with this compass kind of thing that kept ticking like a clock, only it wasn't a clock or a compass, because it had a needle that pointed east when I got it, and north when I got back to Outcast Island and then west when I escaped…Alvin took that, too."

"A Throne?" Eret's face was flushed, and his golden eyes were sparkling now.

I shook my head wordlessly.

"The Crown?" He tilted his head hopefully.

I shook again.

"The Jewel?"

"Nope."

He sighed.

"I told you, I'm not the King."

"If you have the King's Lost Things—

"But I don't. I found all of those things by accident, I wasn't even looking for them! I mean, I was mad when Alvin took them, mostly because they weren't his, but—

"Alvin the Treacherous took them?" His eyes went wide with yet another completely insane realization. "He stole them from you?!"

I nodded. "He has no respect for other people's property, that's for sure."

Eret disregarded this, knelt down next to me, grabbed me by the shoulders and physically shook me back and forth. "That's it! Alvin the Treacherous has always wanted to be King, ever since he heard the prophecy! He was said to be one of the few Vikings who still believed in it… don't you see? He's only gone and burgled all the Lost Things off of you!"

I stared at him for a long moment, completely lost for words. And then I eased his hands off my shoulders, patting his wrist consolingly. "No, he hasn't."

Eret was too excited to be annoyed with me. "He stole your arrow and your key, oh, it's a wonder he didn't get your stone or your dragon yet…and thank Thor the Dragon Jewel remains unfound…"

"Eret, you need to stop," I held out a hand in a stopping motion. "I'm not a King, okay? I'm hardly even a Viking. You need to stop thinking that I am!"

"Why can't you see it?" he demanded desperately. "Don't you get it? I've been a Wanderer all my life, and that's just asking to be put into slavery! It's said that this King is going to abolish slavery forever from the lands, and that nobody will ever be put through the brutal practice again. Not ever. And you…you're the one who's going to stop that! Many of my people are still in slavery…I tried to help them escape, but…" His face crumpled, and I had the feeling that this story did not have a happy ending.

"When I tried helping them out, I only got them in worse trouble than before," he explained miserably. "Every single one of them was killed, murdered by their masters for trying to escape, or else beaten into submission. I kept trying to right the awful wrongs I had committed, but too late – nobody wanted anything to do with me afterward. Those who had survived didn't."

I gaped at him, unable to speak.

He lifted hard golden eyes to mine. "That's why I kept believing in you, and that's why I believe that you could be the King. Because I believe that my people will one day be freed. And maybe one day, I can make it up to them." I knew from experience how hard it was to hold back tears when you were frightened or upset, and he was doing an admirable job. He turned his head away, facing the crackling fire.

"Eret, I…I'm sorry," I whispered into the silence. "I never knew that about you, but…I'm not the King you're looking for. I can't free anyone from slavery, I can't even free myself from Alvin. It's all I can do to keep running and hiding, honestly."

Eret pretended to be inspecting his sleeve, but I knew he was drying his eyes, and I pretended not to notice.

"We need to get those Lost Things back from Alvin," he spoke in a determined voice, yet it trembled slightly.

"I don't think I'm King," I reminded him gently, because I didn't want to upset him anymore.

"The Outcasts have probably set up camp somewhere on the beach," he continued in a slightly stronger voice, ignoring me completely. "C'mon, Hiccup."

"This is crazy," I muttered, rising to my feet and dusting myself off. "Why on earth should I do this?"

"Because you're the true King, and I know it, and I know that you think you're an unlikely candidate, I mean, honestly, look at the size of you. You're one-fourth my size, as I said before, but can you imagine the look on Alvin's face when we get the Lost Things?"

"But what if they aren't the Lost Things? What if they're just a weird compass, a bent arrow and a rusty key?"

"Listen, I know they are. You might not, but I do. Can you just trust me?"


	10. Search and Rescue

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 10: Search and Rescue

**A/N: Ummmm yeah. People will probably be impatient for Hiccup to leave and get back to Berk, but right now, he can't, as you'll see. I decided this had to happen. Good day to you all. Thank you for the reviews.**

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Eret didn't want to wait to go get the supposed Lost Things – he barely wanted to slow down and flesh out a plan. I could tell he was more action than talk, surviving more by luck and thinking on his feet than anything else. He was already halfway to the door of the hideout with his knife unsheathed when I called him back.

The purple Nadder wanted to go with us, but he might have accidentally stepped on someone and woken a few Outcasts, so we had to tell him to stay behind. "We'll be fine," I patted the creature's nose reassuringly for a bit before dropping my hand and turning to Eret. "Be that as it may, this is still a crazy idea."

"You don't have to come with," he replied with a shrug. "It'll be easy enough to grab the Lost Things, stick a sword through him and go running."

"Wait, you're going to _kill_ him?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

I was a Viking, and I should have been able to laugh at the idea of my enemy's death, but instead, I shuddered a little. "No, thank you!"

"But it'd be so easy," he protested.

"But how could you live if you'd killed someone?" The instant I asked it, I knew I'd said the wrong thing.

Eret's golden eyes darkened. I hadn't realized how cheerful he had looked to me after befriending the Nadder, but the difference between then and now was striking. "You're, what, thirteen? Fourteen? You're a Viking, and you haven't killed anyone yet?"

"I'm fifteen," I corrected instantly. "Or…maybe sixteen, I don't remember."

"How can you not remember your own age?"

"Uhh…long story." I didn't really feel like getting into that tonight. As if Eret needed another excuse to go whack people while they slept. "But the point is, I don't want you killing Alvin. Or any of the Outcasts, really. I'm sure that the supposed Lost Things are just stupid knickknacks that Alvin took from me, to like, I don't know, exert his will, I guess. So, why don't we just slow down and forget about this whole thing?"

Eret paused for a moment, throwing a glance towards the door of the hideout. "I can't," he admitted softly, with a heavy sigh. "I have to know if you're the real deal. And yeah, now that I think about it, it'd probably be best if you come with, otherwise I won't recognize the Things on my own."

"I'm not the real deal, though," I protested, following him over to the door of the hideout and giving it a push. The tree trunk door swung open without a sound.

Eret looked very surprised. "You're coming?"

I shrugged. "I think it's pretty clear that I can't stop you, so let's just get this whole crazy thing over with and I'll prove to you that I'm not what you're looking for."

* * *

The Outcast camp was almost completely dark and quiet. There were a few glowing, smoldering embers of a dying fire, and the man who was supposed to be on watch was snoring softly, sprawled out on the ground, making our job so much the easier. Almost too easy, in fact.

The thought made me uneasy, but it only spurred Eret on to higher spirits as he maneuvered, light-footed, around several snoozing Outcasts before finally kneeling down next to the sleeping figure of Alvin the Treacherous. I looked down on the scarred face that had caused me so much fear and pain for fifteen to sixteen years, and I wondered what it would have been like had I told Eret to go ahead. To do it. To kill him. To take away a life. I wondered what would have happened had I given him an okay. What would this man's last dream entail? What would his thoughts be when he felt the metal piercing his flesh, his bones, his heart? When warm, scarlet blood poured from his chest onto the gritty, pebbly beach he slept on, what would he be thinking?

I swallowed, trying to turn my attention away from those thoughts. The idea of Alvin never hurting me again, never hunting me again…it was beautiful, but impossible. It was the kind of fantasy I couldn't even allow myself to dream of, it was so wonderful. It was too good to be true, and it hurt to even think about it. And yet…

I had been seconds away from having it. All it would have taken was one word, four letters, and Eret would have done it. He wanted to. The idea appealed to him. He wouldn't have felt a bit guilty. But would I?

I knelt down beside Eret, and I watched the Outcast chieftain breathing deeply and evenly, in and out, as Eret searched tirelessly for a quiver. All it would have taken was one word. One word, and I could have been free forever, never to worry about Alvin again. I could have gone back to Berk immediately, and reunited with Toothless and met my real father, and found out if he was a good one or not. And if he was a good one, I would never have had to run again. I would have had a shot at family, a shot at being ordinary.

All it would have taken was one word. So why had my first instinct been to say no?

When Eret found no quiver, he threw me an exasperated look. "Where is it?" he breathed, hardly even whispering, more like mouthing the words.

"Oh. He doesn't do archery. He says it's for the weak. I guess he wouldn't use the arrow, then."

Eret rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to Alvin, looking for the other two Things. He pulled out a compass, but it wasn't ticking and it didn't have a needle that kept spinning in different directions. He then pulled out a rusty ring of keys, but I shook my head on those. Alvin had never put my key with his others; he'd kept mine separate.

Eret was disappointed that we hadn't managed to find the Lost Things, but he made no other offers to take Alvin's life, and for that, I was very glad. I started for the thick canopy of trees with him, but one of the Outcasts suddenly flew upward with a yell, startling nearly everyone out of sleep. Alvin flew upward, grabbing his sword in his right hand and his mace in his left, swinging both about wildly and clocking Dundle, who swung a fist at Alvin before realizing he had just punched his chieftain. Pandemonium ensued, and for a second, Eret and I thought we could make it. But one of the Outcasts staggered into the bushes to relieve himself, and the white-haired woman awoke shouting nonsense words that gave me an odd feeling. I assumed they must have been more spells. The Outcast saw us and let out a yell. Alvin looked up from clobbering Dundle and grabbed his sword up again, his eyes gleaming with savage excitement.

I was frozen with fear for a few seconds, unable to do anything, even breathe. I could feel Eret's hand on my back, pushing me, and his voice shouting, "Go, go, go!"

I finally came back to myself after he said this, which was lucky because Alvin had just grabbed my arm and I managed to yank it away and run before he'd gotten a good grip. I could hear Eret's pounding footsteps and panting from a few paces behind me, but I didn't stop to turn around or look. The charming garden was just up ahead, but as it turned out, it wasn't necessary to even cross; the purple Nadder must have sensed we were in distress, because he came shooting out of the trees, flipping us onto his back and up into the air.

I had had some experience, thanks to Toothless, of clinging onto a dragon's neck for dear life, but Eret lost grip and went tumbling down, hitting the forest floor with a loud, worrying thump. We were only about ten feet up, but it was still high enough to cause a broken bone or two, and I winced. The Nadder plunged down again as Outcasts began to crowd Eret's still body. I heard something snap, but it wasn't me or Eret, which was lucky; the pain in my shoulder wasn't something I ever wanted to experience again. In fact, it throbbed just from hearing another person's pain.

But when the Nadder rose up again, I realized that it wasn't a human who had gotten hurt. One of the dragon's wings was limp and twisted, and I knew from experience that the creature would not be able to stay in the air for long. Eret didn't know any of this yet; he was clinging madly to the dragon's talons, which he needn't have done; the Nadder was clutching him tightly enough so that he wouldn't fall. We were three feet from the hideout when the dragon finally collapsed, and Eret crawled feebly out from under it, coughing. The rough landing jarred my shoulder again, but I pushed the pain away, scrambling off the Nadder's back and studying the poor creature.

"What's wrong?" Eret looked up at me, concern in his eyes.

"He's hurt," I bent down next to the Nadder, running a hand along the wing.

Eret spotted the broken wing, too, and gasped.

"It's okay, it's a clean break. We'll just have to wrap it, in a splint, I think. Human treatments work just as well for dragons, we just have to do them on a larger scale."

Eret nodded, looking pale and kind of sick.

"Do you have any medical supplies in your hideout?"

Another weak nod.

"Then go get them." I turned back to the Nadder, stroking his glistening purple head. "You'll be okay. We'll get you all fixed up, and you'll be okay."


	11. Scars

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 11: Scars

**A/N: The one where Hiccup is OOC and there's tons of swearing. Hmph. I'm not so sure about this chapter, guys. Two updates in one day, though. Thanks for the reviews.**

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We managed to get the Nadder back in the hideout and fashion the dragon a makeshift splint, but even after all the excitement was over, neither of us could sleep that well. We sat up in our blankets until late into the night, discussing the Lost Things and the King, who was supposedly to rule over every tribe, every island, every human and dragon in the Barbaric Archipelago.

"No wonder Alvin wants that position," I mumbled, more to myself than to Eret. "I guess chief isn't good enough for him anymore."

Eret made a face in the darkness. "Sounds like him." He patted the Nadder's good wing reassuringly as the dragon rolled over to face us. "But don't worry," he added consolingly to the creature. "Nothing's gonna happen to _you_."

It was odd to see a man who was previously so afraid of dragons now afraid _for _the dragon.

I stood from my spot on the floor, staring out into the starlit night. "We need to leave, as soon as that wing heals up. We can't stay here forever, not now that Alvin knows where we are."

"I bet you anything he's got the garden surrounded," Eret murmured. "If we try to leave at all, he'll have us in moments, does he know that this dragon is hurt?" He indicated the Nadder beside him.

I walked over to the dragon, rubbing his nose. "I don't know. I can't remember if he was near enough to see – I think I was more focused on surviving than remembering every little detail." I sighed at how sharp I sounded when I spoke. "But we need to go. I wish we could have just left tonight, instead of going on some crazy search for some supposedly ancient and foretold things." I threw the man an annoyed look.

He shrugged in apology. "Least now we know. So, we take off once this guy's wing is healed up, and we go to Outcast Island to find the Things, then?"

"No," I growled. "I've had quite enough of your wild goose chases, Eret. I'm getting on the dragon's back, and I'm going _home_."

"What?" Eret asked in surprise. "But, Hiccup, if you don't challenge Alvin for the Things—

"I've had enough of your _stupid_ claims that I'm the King! I've never even heard of such a stupid fairy tale before, you're probably making it up to trick me, to see what an idiot I am! Well, I'm not falling for it! Isn't it clear enough that I'm nowhere near a King? I'm not going to end slavery, I'm not going to rule the Archipelago, I'm not going to do anything amazing, I'm going to be running from Alvin my whole life and just trying to _survive_! I don't want to be King, I don't want to challenge Alvin, I just want my dragon back and to find out whether my father _really_ is abusive or not, and I want to just think about everything and get used to Humongous being gone, and I want you to leave me alone about being King! Hell, how am I supposed to be a King if I can't even be a _chief_?"

I didn't realize what I was saying, or how loudly I was yelling, until my tirade was over. But pent-up anger and frustration and sadness was spilling out of me by the bucketful, and I didn't have the strength to stop it. I drew in several deep breaths, looking away from Eret, staring determinedly at the floor, waiting for him to kick me out, to say he was done protecting me. Everybody always said goodbye to me in the end. I swallowed, and the action was audible in the thick, tense silence.

Eret drew his own, rather deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said, surprisingly calmly, and when I glanced up, I was relieved to see that he didn't look angry. "I guess I didn't really think about things from your point of view. I was overeager, I think, in finding out that you're the King…your destiny isn't written in a prophecy, and only you control it, sometimes helped or hindered by Fate and the gods."

I brushed my hair impatiently out of my eyes, still staring stubbornly at the ground. "Yeah, but mostly I've been hindered," I mumbled in response.

He laughed lightly, but it sounded forced. "So, what did you mean by, 'whether my father really is abusive or not'?"

"That's a long story," I sank back down into the blankets, staring out at the stars, shining so bright and silvery above me. I wanted nothing more right then than to disappear up into that navy blue sky forever, floating up there with the stars, completely at peace, maybe even shining a bit, like the rest of them. Dimmer than the others, oh, so much dimmer, but still shining. And free. Away from Alvin. I'd never have to worry about him again. I let my head fall back against the pillow, wincing as I jostled my shoulder with the movement.

"Are you alright?" Eret asked, clearly jumping on anything to dispel the remaining awkwardness. "You look like you're in pain."

I started to shrug, but that kind of hurt, too. "I think I might have fractured my shoulder or something, no big deal."

He raised an eyebrow. "No big deal? You do realize that if you don't give yourself the proper medical attention—

"I don't want any medical attention," I snapped. "I want to get off this damn island and back to my dragon."

"I'm just saying, you don't want to meet up with your dragon while you're half-dead and barely able to function," he pointed out. "Please let me help you."

I sat up in frustration. "Do whatever, I guess. I can't stop you."

Eret seemed a bit more subdued since I'd yelled at him, but I didn't have it in me to feel guilty anymore. He gently knelt next to me, taking my arm in one hand. I winced when his fingers went to my shoulder.

"Yeah, see, that's a bad sign," he remarked. He applied a bit of pressure to the shoulder. "Does that hurt?"  
I smacked his hand away. "What kind of question is that?"

"I think we're gonna need to make you a sling to keep the arm still. Can you move it?"

I nodded.

"Good, that suggests it isn't broken. All the same, I'm gonna need you to take off your shirt." He pulled out the wooden box of medical supplies again, hardly even noticing when I glared at him.

"No thank you," I seethed.

"Hiccup…" He sighed. "Look, I'm only trying to help you right now. I understand that you're angry with me for trying to force the position of King onto you, but don't let that anger become pride, and don't let it stop you from letting me help you."

"I don't want to take off my shirt in front of you!"

"You're acting like it's a full strip," he rolled his eyes, not comprehending. "I already know you're a matchstick, that's obvious even with your clothes still on."

"That's not what I meant," I responded coldly. "I don't want you to…see things, okay?"

Eret raised a questioning eyebrow. "I'm only trying to help. I promise, whatever you're talking about, I won't comment on it, okay?"

I glanced down at myself for a long moment, and then I sighed. I shrugged off the vest with one shoulder, pulling it off one-handed, because Eret gave me kind of a stern look when I tried to use my bad shoulder. I let the vest fall onto the floor and set about unlacing the shirt, pulling it up over my head. Eret didn't gasp when he saw the scars; it was like they barely even registered. He just looked at them for a second. "Is that what you didn't want me to see?"

I nodded reluctantly.

He actually laughed. "Really? You think you can scare _me_ off with a few scars?" he pulled up his own shirt, revealing whip marks covering his sides. They were clearly old, scarred over by now and nearly forgotten by all but him. He let his shirt drop again after I'd studied the scars for a second, and then he opened his box of medical supplies. "Why didn't you mention being injured before this?"

"Probably because your charming way of welcoming guests turned me off to it," I responded as he began to fashion a sling.


	12. Vivid

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 12: Vivid

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my amazing friend and artist, RazzlePazzleDooDot. She's having a rough day, and I'm posting this newest chapter in the hopes of distracting her from her problems right now. Thank you all for the reviews, each one reminds me that my writing matters. **

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I had always had vivid dreams. I was never sure why they scared me at first, but at around ten or eleven years old, I began realizing that every dream I had seemed to come true. Whatever I saw when I closed my eyes in the night was reality the next morning, or the morning after that, or the morning after that. I had learned to be cautious with dreams, even though Alvin had told me that real Vikings never put much stock into their nighttime imaginings like I did.

I think there was only one dream I honestly resisted believing, because it was just so terrible. I was about twelve at the time, and it was the night before I planned to show everybody that dragons were good, and that they attacked because they had to. I remembered laying down to sleep that night, and praying to Thor that he would give me a hint about how the next day's events would go. The only vision I got for my trouble was Alvin sneering down at me, picking me up by my collar and tossing me onto a cold, hard stone floor. I bolted up from the dirty ground, trying in vain to grab onto him before he left, but the door closed behind him with awful finality, and I realized I was in a cell. I'd woken up in the night, shortly after that dream, in a cold sweat and trying my hardest not to cry, because Vikings didn't cry. And then I reminded myself that Vikings didn't believe in their dreams becoming real, either, so I'd rolled over and tried to make myself go back to sleep.

It was clear that that wasn't going to work this time, because when Eret had finally fashioned the sling to his liking, and fastened it on me, helped me pull my shirt on and settled me back down into the thick nest of blankets, I fell asleep almost instantly. I had thought, the whole time he'd been bandaging my arm, that I wouldn't be able to so much as close my eyes for a second, but all the turmoil and exhaustion just welled up and I couldn't even keep my eyes open.

I was standing on an island, a very tiny island, surrounded by nothing but ocean. Alvin the Treacherous stood on one side, and an old man with a very long white beard dragging in the sand behind him stood on the other. Alvin had Toothless in a tiny cage beside him, and he was smirking down at me as my blood boiled upon seeing my dragon so cruelly mistreated and defenseless. When Alvin moved his head a bit, to look at the white-haired woman bowing reverently to him, I caught a flash of gold and realized a Crown was perched atop his head. An ancient, aged wooden throne stood behind him on the beach, and I could see my key in his hand. My arrow in his quiver. My compass tied carefully to his wrist, ticking incessantly. The golden dragon bracelet that the dragon had stolen from Humongous was wound around his wrist, and I felt another flash of white-hot anger. Alvin didn't deserve to wear anything that had once been Humongous'. A very rusty, very old sword was wedged in Alvin's belt, and he clutched a sparkling, bright red jewel in his hand.

"I know that jewel," I mumbled frantically, knowing that something terrible was going to happen if Alvin held the Jewel up to the light of the rising sun.

The old man walked slowly forward, and he reached in between the bars of Toothless' cage, running his fingers along the dragon's shining black scales. Toothless, who had previously had his teeth bared menacingly, relaxed visibly under the older man's touch. It was then that I realized that the old man was wearing a blindfold, so he couldn't even see Toothless. The old man took his hand away from my dragon and walked blindly, slowly towards Alvin, touching the golden crown upon his head, the key in his hand, the sword in his belt. The last thing he touched was the Jewel, and when he did, he smiled. The smile that broke out over his face was heart-wrenchingly happy, because I had the feeling that this man rarely smiled. He threw his hands up in the air, palms up, yelling joyously at the heavens. "We have found the King of the Wilderwest, who comes with the King's Lost Things!"

The white-haired woman let out a cracked, slightly mad laugh and Alvin smiled grimly, kneeling down next to her, at the old man's feet. "Crown me."

The old man gently took the Crown off his head, throwing it into the sand. Alvin seemed surprised by this. "You cannot be Crowned King yet," the man intoned sternly. "You may only be Crowned on the Thirteenth Day of the Yule. You know this. It is the Twelfth Day of Yule. You will ride back in your boat and tomorrow, you will come sailing back here with your Lost Things once more, and only then may you be Crowned King over the entirety of the Barbaric Archipelago."

Alvin looked ready to hit the man above him, but he forced a small smile. "Forgive me," he whispered, in a voice so deadly that I felt like running and screaming in the opposite direction, but the old man didn't even flinch. "I forgot myself in my excitement. I'll be back tomorrow, and that is a promise."

"No," I mumbled feverishly. "Those Lost Things aren't real! You can't Crown him, those Lost Things aren't real!"

The old man looked sternly down at me. Even with a blindfold on, I could still tell that he was gearing up for a scolding. "Child, hush now. I have gone through many imposters, and many false Lost Things in my time. These are the real ones, and you must know this."

"But they're not!" I stammered. "Eret's just crazy, he doesn't know what he's talking about! You have to believe me—

"I don't believe you," the man interrupted calmly. "I know what the true Lost Things are. These are it. Do not trouble yourself, child."

The white-haired woman cackled again, sounding even madder this time. "You should have thought about this before saying you wouldn't challenge my son for the Things!"

"But I don't want to be King!" I cried in frustration. "I just want to be _normal_!"

"Hiccup," the old man said gently, "wake up."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "I'm awake!"

"Wake up!"

I opened my eyes and drew in several deep breaths, as if I had just been underwater for a long period of time. I sat upright, realizing that Eret had been shaking my shoulder. I looked around the hideout for a second; dawn was finally starting to break.

"So…" Eret drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "I don't know what I'm talking about?"

"What?"

"You were talking in your sleep, and that's what you said."

My face grew warm. "Sorry. I was just having kind of an odd dream."

"Must have been a really odd one, you kept talking about Alvin and being King and the Lost Things."

"Your story really stuck with me," I shrugged, pretending to be playing with the hem of my vest until he had scooted a bit farther away. The moment I thought he couldn't see, I ripped open my vest and dug around inside the brown belt, searching…searching…

My fingers found cool gold and I pulled it out, sighing with relief. The golden dragon bracelet from my dream was still here, solidly next to me. I knew I should have gone back to Humongous' body, if the tide hadn't carried him out by now, and left the bracelet with him, but I had an odd feeling about it. I had the feeling that if I left it lying around, Alvin would be sure to take it.

I sank back down onto the pillows, feeling too overwhelmed to think. "Is it really morning already?"

"Yep," Eret responded cheerfully. "You can go back to sleep, though, if you like. We'll be having mostly a quiet day here while we wait for his wing to heal back up."

I grumbled, mostly to myself. "I wish I could just go now. I want to see Toothless again."

Eret sighed. "Look, I know you miss him, but right now, this hideout is probably the safest place for you. We'll leave, but we have to wait, okay? His wing is still healing."

"I know," I admitted before glancing over at Eret and realizing he was sitting beside the cold, dark hearth once more, and his makeshift bed looked untouched. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

He shook his head. "Too wired. I'll sleep. On a day like this, we can afford to get our days and nights mixed up."

I glanced over at the Nadder again with a sigh. He was still asleep. I knew I should have been more sympathetic about his wing, but I couldn't help it; I wanted to leave as soon as possible.


	13. Rightness

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 13: Rightness

**A/N: Yeah. So...yeah. I hope you enjoy this. It seemed to take forever to get to this point, huh? Thanks for pushing me over 100 reviews :D **

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As the week wore on, the Nadder's wing healed up wonderfully, and Eret said no more about Kings, or Lost Things, or any of that stuff that I could really do without right now. I was grateful that he had dropped the subject, but I couldn't help feeling slightly guilty, too, knowing it was my outburst that had made him keep his mouth shut for so long.

But finally, the night came to drive everything but getting to Berk clear out of my mind. I had been cooped up in the hideout for far too long and had deemed it suitable to go for a walk before I went completely crazy from cabin fever, and when I entered the hideout again, I saw Eret packing a small, woven basket. I leaned against the door as I shut it. "The Outcasts are out there."

"They didn't see you coming in, did they?" He glanced up, alarmed.

"No, but I saw them." I plunked myself down on the floor a few feet away from him, sitting Indian-style across from him. "That woman – the witch – she's trying to figure out a way to dismantle the garden magically."

"She won't be able to do it," Eret responded confidently, throwing a thick brown book into the basket and slamming it shut with finality. "Besides, we're leaving tomorrow morning."

"We are?" Why Eret couldn't just sit down and tell me these things instead of dashing off to do them, I would never figure out.

"You did say his wing was healed up enough to fly again, right?"

"Yes," I admitted slowly. "I just…thought we were going to wait a bit longer."

"You're the one who wanted to leave so quickly in the first place," he pointed out with a shrug, picking up the basket and setting it back against the wall. "Having second thoughts?"

"No," I responded immediately, watching as the Nadder nuzzled Eret's shoulder, looking for attention. "I just…I mean…I do want to go, I want to see Toothless, but…" I sighed softly, dropping my gaze to the ground.

"But?" he prodded, patting the Nadder's nose affectionately. The dragon gave him a lick, and Eret grinned slightly to himself, scratching under the dragon's chin.

"Nothing. But nothing. I'm being stupid, that's all. Everything will be fine."

"Mm." Eret cocked an eyebrow, but let it go. "Well, you'd better get some sleep, Hiccup. We'll be leaving tomorrow, so you'll want to be rested. I can't see myself figuring out how to ride a dragon alone, and something tells me that you don't run very well on no sleep."

"Who does?" I muttered, reluctantly settling back down in my little nest of blankets. I stared unseeingly up at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the crackling of the fire suddenly drowned out by the splashing of water, the soft hiss and sputter of dying embers.

"Eret?" I whispered as the room turned dark with the sudden approach of night.

"Yeah?" He crawled over to his own makeshift bed on the floor, sinking down into the blankets.

I hesitated for a second. How did I thank him for everything he had done? Sheltering me, giving me a place to hide even though he had his suspicions about me, trusting me in spite of everything about me that screamed I wasn't to be trusted?

"Never mind," I mumbled, rolling over and turning away from him. He didn't try to bring it back up again, leaving me alone to my own thoughts. I closed my eyes, not really focused on sleeping, too focused on worrying. What was going to happen to me when I landed back on Berk? I would reunite with Toothless, of that I was certain, but everything afterwards felt fuzzy, like a house built upon sand instead of solid rock. What was going to happen? Was Stoick the Vast going to be a kind, loving father, or was he going to cast me away too, the same way Alvin had?

I had an awful feeling that the second situation was more likely. If anybody ever wanted me, I would worry so much for their sanity, it isn't even funny. And if he did want me…

If he did, how was I going to handle that? How could I take it, something as beautiful as family after something as ugly as what Alvin had done to me? And what if that beautiful little thing called family passed me by, and my real father decided I wasn't worth it, wasn't worth being "fixed" or whatever? What if he didn't love me? He didn't have to abuse me to hate me.

I couldn't stop the worrying thoughts running through my head, but I must have fallen asleep sometime through all that worrying, because when loud noises startled me up, I registered having been asleep. Thumping footsteps on dry grass, stalking triumphantly closer to me. Everything around me was dark, so black I could barely see my surroundings. I sat up, feeling around with my hands, trying to guess where I was before remembering that I was still in Eret's hideout.

I could see the vague outline of the man, crouched by the door, one hand upon the wood, leaning very close. I could hear him calling my name in the thick darkness. "Hiccup," he breathed, "get out of here. Run."

"What's going on?" I asked groggily, probably louder than I should have. "Eret, what's wrong?"

"No time to ask questions," he said quietly, springing up from his position like a cat and leading the Nadder carefully over to me. Patting the Nadder on the nose, he continued, "We need to leave. Now."

"Why?" I demanded, now wide awake, crawling over to him. "What's going on?"

"The Outcasts got past the garden, we need to leave."

"What? How?!"

"I don't know! Search me! Just c'mon, c'mon, c'mon…" Eret began running his fingers along the wall of the hideout, frantically praying to deities I had never heard of. "Please let it be here, please let it be here, please let it—YES!" he cheered, ripping open a tiny back door that blended in so well with the wood that I had never noticed it before. He ushered me and the Nadder outside. "C'mon, let's go."

"How did they get past the garden?" I whispered, mostly to myself as I began to climb on the Nadder's back.

"No idea," he panted, clambering up beside me. The dragon twitched slightly when he climbed on, but I didn't know why. "Let's get going."

There came a sudden pounding on the door of the hideout. "Oh, no," Eret breathed, going white. "My pack! If the Outcasts find it—!"

"Can't it wait?!"

"No, you don't understand what's in there! Wait right here!" Eret jumped off the Nadder once again, running in as fast as he could, hurtling through the back door again.

"Hurry!" I whispered, but he didn't look back. I waited for several heart-stopping moments, unable to stand the utter stillness.

And then I heard a huge crash and a scream.

"Eret!"

"RUN!"

"Eret!" I screamed, bolting off the dragon and trying to run back to the hideout but Eret appeared at the back door. From the glimpse I got inside, I was thinking they had used explosives to get in; thick gray smoke covered the scene.

"Be quiet!" he hissed, before an Outcast emerged from the fray and grabbed Eret from behind, dragging him back into the smoke. I gave another scream, reaching for him, but he kept yelling at me to run.

"I can't leave you!"

"Hiccup, go!"

A bit of dust cleared, and I saw everything crystal clear: the Outcast holding Eret grabbed his head and cracked it, hard, against the wooden wall, making a sickening sound as he slumped limply to the floor, unconscious. But Alvin's mean little brown eyes sought me, standing next to the Nadder. Without a word, the dragon flipped me onto his back again, soaring off into the sky. I think I might have been screaming, tearing at the iridescent purple scales, yelling for the stupid dragon to _go back, go back, go back. _Eret must have won the creature's loyalty on a larger scale, because he obeyed the man's commands instead of mine.

"Please!" I cried desperately, practically sobbing as I pummeled my fists on my bad knee in frustration, the stupid prosthetic leg that I still understood nothing about. "Please, we have to go back!"

The dragon offered me an apologetic purr, but I realized it was pointless: we were probably too far away by now to get to him. For some strange reason, I had the feeling that the Nadder had a point to all this, a _reason_ for not turning back. And I wanted to protest it, for Eret, but I knew that, alone, I was no use to Eret. Injured, alone and unaided, I could do nothing if he had been kidnapped by Outcasts. But with Toothless by my side, and maybe if I was lucky, some people on Berk who didn't _completely_ detest me…

As we soared up into the dark blue sky, I fell against the Nadder's neck, burying my face in the scales, still cool, not yet warmed by a sun that hadn't risen. The sky was still cloudy and dark, only a tinge of pink off to the east hinting that dawn was near. I kept seeing Eret in my mind's eye, the handsome face twisted in pain, but I forced the image back when I saw the Outcast ships not far from me on the water. How they had managed to catch up so fast, I wouldn't know. I had had quite the head start, and a dragon was much faster than a boat.

When I dared to dip below the clouds, a few of the ships launched nets at me, so I didn't venture very low very often. We climbed as high as we dared, the oxygen becoming thinner and thinner with each beat of the Nadder's wings, and, with each beat of his wings, I wanted to make him turn back and fetch Eret, yet I knew he wouldn't, and I knew it wasn't a smart idea. I was stupid, but not that stupid.

The Nadder must have known where Berk was located, because when I realized that he didn't know where to land and I told him, he purred like he understood and changed direction completely, doing a turnaround in midair and heading off to the east instead, where the sun was almost completely risen by now.

By the time Berk appeared on the horizon as a small speck, it was high in the sky, blindingly bright and beating down on me with such intensity that I took my vest off due to heat, laying it over my knees. And by the time we were close enough to the island that I could actually land, it was storming so badly that we could barely fly straight, making my stomach clench with the loud booms and crashes. I dipped below the clouds. The Outcast ships were gone. No trace of them anywhere. They must have left, given up due to the storm, I figured. Yet it left me with an odd feeling of uncertainty.

"Go lower." I pushed the worries from my mind.

The Nadder instantly dropped, circling the island and depositing me gently onto the beach, and I accidentally inhaled several grains of sand, instantly sneezing them out again.

My ears were attacked by a barrage of noise, and when I looked up, I could see people running towards me, my brain running in circles and beating itself against the wall of my head with how much it recognized these people. I felt a sudden sense of being home, and for the first time, Eret was forgotten for moments as a feeling of rightness filled my heart.


	14. Hiccup's Story

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 14: Hiccup's Story

**A/N: Yeah. So. Yeah. This is the fourteenth chapter. I'm reaching the point I was really eager to write, so chapters should be a little faster, but don't take my word for it. I woke up to a crap load of reviews and 4 private messages this morning from you all :D Thank you, really. I wouldn't be anywhere without my readers. I wouldn't have honed my writing as much as I have this year, and I definitely wouldn't have written 300k this year alone if not for you guys' unwavering support. Really, thank you. And here's an extra-long chapter to show my gratitude. **

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Toothless was the first to get to me, physically pinning me down on the sand and licking me all over, my cheeks and my forehead and my neck, which tickled a little. He didn't seem to notice, or care, about the storm raging overhead, and even when the rain slackened off, he wouldn't let me up. A blonde girl with her hair in a braid and an axe in her hands was the next to get to me, gently pushing Toothless out of the way. For a moment, neither of them wanted to back down, but eventually Toothless rolled his green eyes and let me up.

The blonde girl didn't say anything for a long moment. She stared at me, drinking me in, and then her pretty blue eyes flashed. And she reared her fist back, punching my good shoulder as hard as she could. "That was for scaring me!" She yelled, before scrambling forward and surprising me by pulling me into a tight hug. I hesitated for a long moment before hugging her back, my hands resting carefully on the thick fabric of her blue shirt.

"What was that for?" I demanded when she'd finally pulled away. "Why would you do that? The punching, I mean? I'm already wounded in one area!"

A brown-haired boy, with his helmet slightly askew, came rushing forward. He didn't hesitate, or stare at me, or punch me the way the girl had, but he also pulled me into a hug. These people were clearly very open to touch, and I didn't really know how to tell them no. I tried to coax myself into hugging him back like I had with the girl, but by the time I was steeling myself to do so, rather awkwardly, he'd pulled away, looking embarrassed at his display of affection.

A husky blonde boy practically bowled me over with how hard he came at me, and I thought my legs were collapsing. Thankfully, the blonde girl hauled him off of me with a single, strong pull, and a pair of identical twins came rushing at me next. They didn't really want to hug me, though; mostly they just wanted to punch me, but Gobber, the man from my dream, managed to stop them, for which I was very grateful. He gave me a bright, friendly smile. "Welcome home."

I offered him a slight smile before my eyes fell on the other man from my dream, standing just beyond Gobber: Stoick the Vast. I swallowed nervously, lifting my head to meet his gray gaze. He was staring at me, at a complete loss for words, his gray eyes huge. And then, without warning, without even making a sound, his legs collapsed beneath him onto the sand, and he spread his arms wide, a silent invitation.

I regarded him self-consciously for a moment, until Gobber gave me a gentle push in his direction and I began to stumble forward. Stoick the Vast did not urge me to get there quicker; he just kept gazing silently at me, for all the world as if I was the last sight he would ever want to see. I finally reached him where he knelt, and even on his knees, he was taller than I was. I offered him a small, slightly nervous smile, wondering if he was going to see my face, my arm in a sling, my ripped and torn clothes, my bruised countenance and push me away.

He wrapped his huge arms around me, pulling me into a hug, practically crushing me to his chest. I could hear his heart beating, even through the thick, armored clothing he wore, and for a moment, I sat stiffly in his arms, expecting a blow or a rejection, but none came. He hugged me tighter, and kissed the top of my head several times and I heard him whisper, "Oh, Hiccup, oh, my little boy, you're safe…"

I squeezed my eyes shut as memories began coming back, playing like a slideshow in my mind. This was the man who'd held me when I cried, who'd cradled me so gently when Alvin the Treacherous announced that I was his. And this man hadn't been disgusted when he realized that I belonged to Alvin, he'd loved me still.

There were some gaps in my memory: I still couldn't recall why I remembered feeling his warm arms around me, followed by a strange rocking motion, or why I felt just the hint of unease when I thought of him realizing I belonged to Alvin. But he could fill in these gaps. And he didn't hate me. He loved me. I remembered that now, remembered him saying it, just his touch and his gaze and the sound of his heartbeat bringing things back.

And then Toothless got impatient waiting for me to quit hugging him, and so he nuzzled his way into the embrace, too. I laughed and it came out sounding slightly shaky, but I brushed at my eyes, hoping to banish any lingering tears or uncertainties. I stole a quick glance at – _wow, was this man really my dad? _– and he smiled at me. His gray eyes looked a bit bright, too, but Toothless gave me a bit of a nip, pining for attention, and I obediently scratched the dragon under the chin, resting my head on top of his. And for a moment, even with those uneasy gaps in my memory, everything felt perfect, everything felt _right_.

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The people of Berk were nice, but they were unreasonable. And when I say that, I mean it. They were worse than Alvin when it came to sheer Viking stubbornness.

When the blonde girl with the axe – whose name turned out to be Astrid – caught me saddling up Toothless just an hour afterward and promising the pale purple Nadder, who kept trying to stop me, that I would be back with Eret soon, she demanded to know what I was doing, and where I was going, despite the fact that it really wasn't her business.

And then, once I'd very calmly and rationally explained exactly where I was going, even though I didn't really owe her an answer, she got so mad. I mean, for no reason. Really. She started yelling, mostly about, _"Do you know how long you've been gone? Huh? Do you?" _and _"We were all worried sick about you, Hiccup!" _and, _"If you leave now, you'll be tearing Stoick apart! Don't you ever think of anyone else?"_

And then, to top it off, she tattled on me, to Gobber, who tattled to my dad (Thor, I still couldn't get over that that's who he was) and Dad absolutely refused to let me go. He spouted off some nonsense about how I was being hunted by Alvin and how they just couldn't lose me again, not after getting me back so soon. And Gobber informed me that I was being a reckless idiot, and, considering how bad my dad had been at that age, he should have been more proud than angry.

Dad gave him a burning look when he said that. "You don't have to do that," he snapped, and Gobber shrugged in response, making me smile a little. Their easy friendship was comforting and nice to watch.

And then I remembered that I was being scolded and I shook it off. "No, seriously, I need to get out there and go back for Eret," I insisted. "He was wounded when he left, but the Outcasts didn't want him, they wanted me, so they might have left him alone on his island again."

Dad and Gobber both exchanged glances and then blinked a little at me, uncomprehending. I sighed, and then I had to go through the whole story again, about Eret and everything, skipping over his crazy claims that I was a King because I wasn't quite ready to deal with that yet. I told them about how he'd been willing to help me get back to Berk, and even given up his own life for my sake. "So, we just get him back and everything should be alright, provided the garden doesn't eat me…oh, wait, the Outcasts found a way past the garden and it didn't eat me before—

Gobber's eyes went wide. "Provided the garden doesn't _what_?"

"Oh, eat me," I explained with a shrug. "It likes to do that, but it's really Eret's only form of self-defense, so…"

"Hiccup…" Dad sighed a little. "Can you please start from the beginning? You never even told us what happened to you yet."

"I wish somebody could explain what happened to me," I mumbled bitterly before raising my voice. "Okay, well, as a warning, there will be some gaps in my memory, considering all the memory loss Alvin gave me—

"The _what_?"

"You know, for people who want to hear my story, you're terrible for interrupting. I really think this can wait and that you should let me get Eret first thing."

"I'm not rescuing anybody who has a garden that eats people," Gobber responded stubbornly.

I rolled my eyes. "It's just his burglar alarm."

"Burglar alarm?" Gobber sputtered.

Dad silenced him with a glare. "Just tell us what happened, Hiccup." His expression softened when he looked at me.

"We're wasting time," I mumbled. "And like I said, there are going to be some gaps, so I would appreciate it if you guys could fill them in for me when I'm done, but right now I've got this figured out. I was apparently captured by Alvin thanks to Humongous, only there was some weird spell that made me lose my memory and I feel like I'm forgetting what happened before that, but you guys can probably fill me in on that… And then, oh, yeah, Humongous got me out of the Outcast cell—

It was Dad who interrupted this time, with a cough and splutter that made him sound like he was choking. _"Humongous?" _

"Yeah, we stole a boat and got pretty far away from Outcast Island, only he couldn't really fill me in that well, except he thought you might have been abusing me, or you might have really loved me, but Alvin told him you were abusing me. So I thought maybe you were, too, because that would make more sense than you loving me, so I won't be surprised if you hit me, just so you know, to put your mind at ease about that…"

Dad looked nothing less than horrified now as he regarded me, but it seemed he was speechless, because he didn't interrupt again.

"And yeah, then they caught up to our boat, the Outcasts, and revealed our escape had been planned by them, apparently, but whatever happened with that, I'm not really sure…yeah, and then it turned out we weren't anywhere near Berk, and we got blasted onto another island, and…Humongous…" My story flickered out and I felt my eyes growing wet. I hadn't really cried in a long time, and I felt the urge to burst into tears again. "Humongous…heroes who d-die in battle go straight to Valhalla."

Gobber's expression softened in pity, but Dad muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch. The blonde man threw him a sharp look.

"Yeah, so…" I dropped my gaze to the floor. "So, um…and then I ran across Eret's, you know, man-eating garden there, except it wouldn't eat me because apparently I wasn't greedy enough to trigger them or something, and then Eret decided to threaten me with death, only then he bonded with him…" I jerked my head at the pale purple Nadder, looking anxious to get his friend back. "And so that happened, and he started to kind of like me, I think, and crap happened and then the Outcasts invaded the hideout by somehow getting past the garden and yeah." I folded my hands in my lap, sitting back in my chair. "The end."

A ringing silence followed my words, a silence in which Gobber looked from me to Dad and back again, raising an eyebrow as if watching a very interesting argument. Dad's mouth fell all the way open, and he gazed at me, speechless, for several long seconds. And then the explosion started.

"Alvin wiped your _memory_? How the—_what_ the—_why the_—man-eating gar—Humongous? But…_what_?"

"I just told you the whole story, I'm not explaining it again," I folded my arms over my chest. "I'm going after Eret, though, and I'm getting him back safely. He gave up everything for me, I can't forget that."

In his anger, Dad had jumped from his chair, but now he sort of sank back down, looking a little lost. "You can't go, Hiccup," he managed to sputter out, finally. "I mean…Alvin is probably looking for you all over—

"No, he knows I'm on Berk, I think," I responded, shaking my head. "So, it'll actually work out great when I go. I'll lead him around one of the islands and make it seem like we're on that one, and then get away and back to Eret's as fast as I can, and then back to Berk, so Alvin won't even touch this place." I waited for Dad and Gobber to agree. They exchanged loaded looks.

"What?" I demanded, raising an eyebrow, a little uneasy due to their silence.

"You're not going." Dad announced at last. "This isn't about the safety of Berk, that's not what I mean. I'm scared for your safety."

"That's pretty stupid." I didn't realize what I'd said until I'd blurted out and I had a moment of fear, a sudden spasm in my chest when I realized how disrespectful I sounded. I felt certain that he was going to lean over and smack me, but when he made no moves and I remembered how comforting and warm he felt to me, I allowed myself to relax a little. "I mean…I mean…" I struggled to regain my composure. "I mean the village is more important than I am, a hundred times over, really. You're the chief of this island, and you need to focus on the people before you can focus on your family."

I lifted my chin, feeling reasonably confident that I'd made a good argument, and feeling increasingly proud of myself when Gobber murmured, "Stoick, the lad's got a point."

Dad huffed in response.

"So, yeah, it would work best if I went, would it not?"

"No." Dad's reply was sharp and quick, leaving no room for arguments. "I'm not letting you do this to yourself. I'll send a few of my men out to search the island and I'll go—

"You can't leave the village at a time like this," Gobber pointed out. "You'll be begging for an Outcast attack, especially considering that they know that Hiccup made it back safely, and is going to regain his memory here."

"Oh, yeah, about that." I jumped on my chance as it arose in the conversation. "Whatever happened to my leg? Do you mind filling me in?"


	15. Stoick's Story

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 15: Stoick's Story

**A/N: Okay! Hello once again, to all of you beautiful people. Thank you so much for checking out this story. I have had an immensely crappy day, but it got better the moment I sat down to write. This chapter was helped along by my friend, RazzlePazzleDooDot. I think she's gonna like this chapter, not just because I used her idea but also for the sheer angst xD to quote one of her reviews: "No matter how many times Hiccup thinks Stoick is going to hit/beat him, I never get tired of it". So, yes. I hope she likes this xD I originally had a different idea as to what happens for the story, but this seemed like a better way to go. **

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For a second, I didn't think Dad or Gobber was going to answer me. They both exchanged heavy glances, and Gobber shook his head sadly, not like he was cautioning Dad not to tell or anything, just a sad little shake. Like he'd heard this story before, and didn't want to hear it again.

Dad leaned over, reaching for me, and I instinctively drew away. He didn't come forward threateningly or anything, but still – you could never be too careful. And besides, I didn't like being touched all that well, anyway. It was better to just leave that out of the equation.

Dad frowned a little, and I wondered if maybe I had angered him by refusing to let him touch me. "Hiccup…" He leaned back in his chair again with a slight sigh. "The Outcasts—well, how much do you remember?"

"Wait, so Alvin did have something to do with my leg?" I asked, sitting up a little straighter. "I thought that at first, too, but something tells me that he would have bragged more about it in front of me had he been the one to do it."

Dad's gray eyes softened in pity. They seemed to do that a lot whenever I spoke, and I didn't like it one bit. "Hiccup, what do you remember?" he pressed gently.

I frowned thoughtfully. "I remember a couple of things, but…not anything solid. Like I remember a couple times where I ate dinner at your house…and then there is one time, but I don't remember anything past that, so…oh, er, yeah, and I remember now, the Outcasts did attack here, searching for me, right? Sorry about that if they caused any destruction, my memory's kinda hazy…"

"Actually, it sounds like you've gotten the important bits," Gobber assured me. "Do you remember crashing on Berk?"

I shook my head slightly. "I'm not really getting full memories, I'm just kind of getting flashes. That sounds familiar, but I can't know for sure."

"Well, you crashed onto Berk, and one of our archers shot an arrow that completely destroyed Toothless' prosthetic fin…" Gobber gestured to the dragon behind my chair.

Somewhere in the middle of my story, Toothless had stopped pining for my attention and sank down on the floor, curling up for a nap. Now I looked down at him, remembering how we'd gone hurtling down to the shore, how he'd grabbed me in his talons, stopped me from colliding painfully with the ground at a height that could have meant death. And I remembered seeing the awful havoc that one arrow had wrought on his weak tail fin. I hadn't taken the time to make it strong. I had only wanted to escape, that much I remembered.

"Yeah," I nodded. "That sounds about right."

Gobber seemed heartened by this display of memory, even though it'd only come back to me after he'd said something. "And you ended up using my tools to fix his tail, remember? You wound up helping me in the forge after you'd completed the tail fin, and you stayed until midwinter."

I smiled, but the word 'winter' had a memory floating back to me, a memory of Gobber and Dad – Stoick, my mind kept insisting I call him that, even though I knew he was my father, and his first name felt disrespectful. I remembered Gobber and Stoick, I guess, sitting at the table in the kitchen, and Gobber laughing, saying, _"You don't ever want to leave Berk in winter. You're pretty much guaranteed frostbite."_

I glanced up at them curiously. "Wait, but I thought Berk was almost completely overrun by blizzards and stuff in winter? If memory serves, I mean, which it hasn't, of late."

Gobber smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah, the Berk winters are pretty harsh. Why do you ask?"

"Then why did I leave in the middle of one? I mean, again, if memory serves, you guys told me not to leave in winter because the snow was so strong and thick."

Gobber's mouth opened. No words came out. He closed it again, looked at Dad—Stoick—and opened it. Then he closed it. Then he opened it. Then he closed it. Then he opened it. "Outcasts."

I raised my eyebrows. "The Outcasts got hold of me again, I guess? Then, how does Humongous figure into all of this?"

Dad took a deep breath. "The thing is…there are things you need to know, and…"

"I'm gonna examine your carvings," Gobber muttered uneasily, rising from his chair and sidling out of the room, giving Stoick – or Dad, whatever – a pointed look as he went.

Dad pushed his Viking helmet a little farther up his head, glanced back to make sure Gobber was really gone, and then… Just when I thought he was going to say something, he seemed to find something fascinating on the tabletop, for he stared at it for a long moment. "Hiccup…um…" he closed his eyes, and he wouldn't look at me. "You left Berk to go away with Toothless…we said that winter wasn't a recommended time to leave, but…"

This wasn't sounding familiar at all. This wasn't making memories play inside my head, but I told myself that he was telling the truth. It must have been a painful truth, had no happy ending, because he looked so upset. "Once you left, Outcasts attacked, looking for you. And so, you flew back to Berk in the hopes that you could hold them off…what you were thinking, I'm not sure…" His voice grew noticeably stronger, and he took shorter pauses between words. "And Alvin caught you, and he…it was then that he cut your leg."

I winced, my hand going down to the stump. It wasn't hurting, but hearing about it coming off – and this part rang true within my memory – was making me cringe in remembered pain. "Yeah, that part definitely sounds about right."

Dad dropped his eyes to the tabletop again. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

I shrugged. "No big deal. I can obviously walk on it again, and it's not even hurting, so I'll be fine. In a couple months, I bet I won't even remember it's there." I rose from my chair. "Well, now that that's settled – and thank Thor, too, I was actually really worried that you might have chopped my leg off, from the way Humongous spoke about you."

Dad didn't laugh, even though it was kind of a joke. He winced a little, and his gray gaze silently refused to meet mine. "You should get upstairs, get some rest."

"The sun isn't even down yet," I pointed out. "Besides, it's useless, I won't be able to sleep anyway. Not until Eret's back with us." I turned to Toothless, regretting having to wake him up. He looked as tired as I felt, and I knew that he hadn't gotten much sleep while I was gone.

The storm had ceased while we spoke, and Gobber grunted something about, "Oh, _now_ it clears."

Toothless awoke with a start, opening his large green eyes and licking my cheek. I smiled at him, rubbing away the saliva and reaching up to climb on his back.

"What are you doing?" Dad demanded suddenly, making me turn.

I looked at him for a second, uncertain. "Um…going to get Eret."

"We were just over this," Gobber groaned. "You're supposed to stay here! Alvin will be around this area waiting for you to come back! He probably left Eret there as bait for you!"

"Well, I should be the one to get him!" I retorted, practically stamping a foot in frustration. "It's my own stupid fault he got left there, so—

"But you're not going to get him," Dad interrupted sternly, picking me up embarrassingly easily by the collar of my vest and plunking me down on the stairs. "You'll be in bed, and I'll send a few men out to get him. Alvin won't hurt anyone he doesn't need; he won't want to make a move that risks giving away his position, or his plan."

I gave him the most venomous glare I could muster, but something tells me that he wasn't very intimidated. "I'll be fine."

"I know you will be, because you're definitely not going," he growled. "You will stay here, even if I have to handcuff you to the wall."

I didn't mean to; it was instinctive. I flinched back from him, dropping my head, staring at my knees, ready to go along with whatever he wanted. "Okay." My voice came out surprisingly small, considering that my heart was thumping so loudly in my chest. "Okay. I'm sorry."

I was ready to call him my dad in my head, ready to accept that this was my father, but why was there something there, why was there this seed of uneasiness? He had done nothing to get me to distrust him this way, except get on Humongous' bad side, apparently, but that might have just been that they didn't like each other. There was no reason for me to feel this way, for me to be so afraid of him. I was naturally afraid of a lot of Viking men; they all reminded me of Alvin, so big and loud and hulking, and yet, this man felt different. Gobber was the kind of person whom I could look at and instantly trust. With his open eyes and ready smile, he seemed like he had nothing to hide.

But my father…

There was something off about him still, and I couldn't figure out what it was. He had hugged me, he had wrapped me in a warm embrace and held me once when I cried, and I vividly remembered him defending me once against Alvin, but there was a vital puzzle piece missing from the puzzle, a piece that made me feel uneasy and scared, though I had no idea why.

So I crouched there on the stairs, heart pounding furiously in my chest, waiting breathlessly for him to do as he said, handcuff me to the wall.

But instead of yelling at me, or speaking angrily, my father's voice came out hoarse and sad and quiet. "Oh…no, Hiccup. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…I would never…I wouldn't, really."

I tried to keep my eyes trained on my knees, but I sneaked a quick peek up at him through a thin curtain of my hair hanging over my forehead. He didn't appear angry, just honestly upset. He had honestly forgotten that a few words could upset me that badly. I could tell that he felt guilty, so I tried my hardest to brush it off. "It's okay. I mean, handcuffing me to the wall would certainly be efficient, huh?"

"I'm sorry," My father repeated helplessly.

I tried to shrug. "It's okay, I just said that. I think…I think I'm gonna go up to bed now."

I started up the stairs, and neither man tried to stop me. I closed my bedroom door as I heard Gobber begin to whisper, "Stoick, what did you tell him?"

I flopped down onto the bed before Toothless' telltale scratching at the wood reminded me that I'd forgotten to let him in. I allowed myself a small smile as I opened the door again, letting him run in and curl up beside the bed, crooning softly.

"I'm okay," I assured him quietly. "I'm just tired. I'll feel better in the morning, when everything with Eret is settled again." I thought for a second, staring up at the ceiling. "And when I get to wash again, of course. Those Outcast cells are so grimy."


	16. Remembering

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 16: Remembering

**A/N: Well, this is my newest chapter :D I really hope everyone enjoys, even though it is kinda short...chapter 17 will pick up the plot a bit, I hope. I really hope this story hasn't been dragging too much, because it feels a bit like since Hiccup made it back to Berk and when he met Eret, things started dragging. I might either be luring my readers into a false sense of security or boring them. I don't know which one. Well, let me know in the reviews :) I wrote this listening to my 'Favorites' playlist on Youtube and I would just like to say that as I wrote this, a fan video for Jack Frost with Jessica Simpson's 'Irresistible' came on. I swear to God that seeing that sexy beast helps me write ;)**

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The last thing I wanted that night was one of my strangely vivid dreams, the ones that always seemed to come true.

Of course, being the last thing I wanted, it was exactly what I got.

It took awhile for me to actually get tired enough to sleep; I couldn't stop thinking about my father's threats to handcuff me to the wall, for one, and I kept wondering what Gobber meant when he asked what he'd told me…

Toothless absolutely refused to settle down until I did, curling up on the end of the bed at my feet like some sort of overgrown guard dog. I sent him an amused glance as I rolled over, trying to get comfortable. He shifted when I did, blinking open sleepy green eyes and watching me worriedly until I flopped down again.

I shook my head, an amused grin stretching my lips. "Alvin's not gonna come sneaking through the window, Toothless, I'm fine. Go to sleep."

His very mature and rational response was to whap me with his tail and roll over.

I yawned and glared at him. "Useless reptile. You act like you want to protect me, and then pummel me." I put my head back on the pillow, staring at the door. I guess I kept waiting, slightly on edge, for it to open, but when it finally did, I was half-asleep. I think I would have jerked up instantly, looking around for the intruder, but I heard the uneven footsteps of the blacksmith and I relaxed, until I recognized the touch as my father's on my shoulder. I tried my hardest not to flinch.

"See," Gobber whispered consolingly, "he's perfectly okay, Stoick."

My father sighed softly, and I felt his beard tickle my nose as he stooped to kiss my forehead. "Sleep well, son," he whispered in my ear.

I knew that he thought that I was asleep, so I forced my breathing to continue in a deep, even pattern until he and Gobber had turned and exited the room once more.

I opened my eyes the moment the door had closed behind him, glancing down at Toothless, still wide awake at my feet. I sighed and closed my eyes again, trying to force myself into sleep, shoving away my worry for Eret and for myself. I would have time to think about all this tomorrow, when I'd had a bit of a rest.

* * *

I was outside of my own body, watching myself through what felt like dirty glass. I could see myself acting the part, and I somehow knew what the other me would do before he even did it. It wasn't like my other dreams; in my other ones, people always took notice of me, but no matter how much I shouted or screamed, they didn't look this time around.

Alvin and the witch were shoving me – the other me, I mean – roughly along, with my hands bound firmly behind my back. I stumbled and fell, but Alvin pulled me upright, holding me out in front of the witch, who stopped dead center and began a slow chant – a spell, I realized. I heard the words, and it was like I'd heard them once before, and I remembered the awful pain in my head, the pounding and ringing. I knew that I was going to slump to my knees before I even did it, and I saw Alvin picking me back up under the arms, and the other me looked like he was about to cry, and I remembered feeling that way. This wasn't the future. This was the past, I realized.

"Please," the other me pleaded, breathless and nearly sobbing. "Please let me rest."

"Start walking," Alvin snapped.

"No, please…just let me rest…please, it hurts so much…"

"Hiccup," the witch spoke again, but this time it was no spell. **"You know that you know where the Dragon Jewel is." **

The name stirred something in my memory, but I just couldn't think what. I watched myself running, over the grass, sinking to my knees suddenly, ripping up handfuls of the dead, brown grass that barely even grew on Outcast Island, just sat in the ground and died every winter like clockwork. I watched as I dug my nails into the dirt, ripping up roots and plants and things, before I saw myself draw a deep breath, pulling out a bright, glistening red ruby. The other me sighed in contentment, nestling it close to my chest, and I remembered a feeling of complete calm washing over me then.

And then the feeling ended, was yanked away from me by Alvin's dirty hands, and the other me tried to protest, to grab the jewel back, but Alvin just laughed and the witch began to move her hands in odd movements. A dark, shadowy mist stole over the other me, and I could see, through the thick fog, the other me going limp.

"Mother, what are you doing?" Alvin hissed at the witch. "His brain will get addled by all these spells if you're not careful…"

"It's just a simple Forget-Me charm, darling," the witch explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. "He won't remember any of this tomorrow."

I sat bolt upright in bed, sweating and shaking and probably screaming my head off, I couldn't tell. I think I might have even been crying a little, because my cheeks were wet when I pressed my hands over my eyes, trying to destroy the image I had just seen.

Because I remembered. I remembered everything Eret had told me about the Lost Things, the King of the Wilderwest, and, most importantly…the Dragon Jewel. I had found the Dragon Jewel for Alvin and the witch. And, according to Eret, only the true King of the Wilderwest could find those Lost Things. Alvin and the witch had enchanted me, forced me to find it for them. And if I hadn't been the true King, it wouldn't have worked on me. I wouldn't have remembered a driving, pushing need to find what she told me to find, I wouldn't have felt that surge of confidence when I realized that, here was something I could do right.

Toothless jerked awake, too, dozing on the job, I supposed, but that was okay. The dragon needed rest, just as much as I did. Probably more, really. I had been able to fall asleep a couple times in Eret's hideout, but by the way he looked, Toothless hadn't gotten a wink of sleep while I was gone. "Go back to sleep," I whispered to him in the darkness.

Remembering the time spent in Eret's hideout brought me sharply back to the present, the sound of owls hooting outside my window, the stars offering little light into my bedroom. The way Eret had spoken, the Dragon Jewel was supposed to be really important. And it just sounded important. The very name made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.

And I had found it. I had found it for Alvin and the witch. I didn't want to be a King, I just wanted to survive. I couldn't be King. I wasn't anything special. I was actually painfully ordinary. But then why had I been able to find the Dragon Jewel?

I shoved my face in my pillow to muffle the frustrated screams rising in my throat. Toothless gave a worried croon, nuzzling my arm, the closest part of me he could reach that wasn't buried in the pillow.

"I'm okay," I mumbled, unwilling to come out of my safe little hideout so soon. "I think I've just had an earth-shattering epiphany is all."


	17. Myth or Fact

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 17: Myth or Fact

**A/N: Hey, guys. Short. I'm sorry. I'm so tired... **

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Broaching the subject at dawn next morning was not something that I wanted to do, but I couldn't just keep worrying about it. I had to say something. I descended the staircase to see my father talking to the old Soothsayer – who, if memory served, was my grandfather – beside the cold, dark hearth. There was no fire, but the metal poker was clutched in my grandfather's shaking hand. The moment I appeared in the living room, the older man jumped to his feet and dashed across the room to sweep me up in such a tight hug that I thought he might crack my ribs. I winced, trying to pull away without looking rude. "Erm…hello?"

"Oh, sorry." He seemed to realize how uncomfortable I felt, because he released me almost at once. "I'm just so glad you're back…I didn't think you were coming back, based on how I couldn't see your future."

Yep. Definitely my grandfather. I remembered that conversation vividly. I smiled awkwardly at him before my father pulled me back into the present.

"Let the boy breathe, Wrinkly," he cautioned. "He doesn't remember anything, I told you."

"Actually, I did remember some things," I said, following my grandfather back over by the fire and taking the seat he indicated. "I remembered them last night. Which is what I kind of wanted to talk about."

The effect of these words on my father was unmistakable. He froze, his face going white, his fingers clenching tight around the mug of honey-colored liquid he held. "Oh…you remembered some things, have you?"

"Yes," I responded uneasily, shifting my weight a bit in my chair. I still felt like there was something vitally important missing from my memory, but I was willing to let it slide until I had my answers about this. "Do you two, either of you…do you know anything about the King of the Wilderwest?"

The two reactions could not have been more opposite; my father snorted, his concerned look melting as he leaned back in his chair once again, but my grandfather's pale eyes widened and he nearly jumped out of his seat again. "The King of the Wilderwest?" he squealed.

I nodded uncertainly, waiting for an explanation.

"What did you remember? Tell me everything!" he commanded excitedly.

"It's a myth," my father countered.

My grandfather glared up at him. "I've been telling you for years, it's not a myth, it's real! Your great-great-great-great-grandfather was the one who gave the prophecy! Of all people, I'd expect you to still believe in it!"

"It's just an old fairy tale to entertain children." My father responded. "Maybe there is a prophecy, but nobody has seen items like the Lost Things for nearly a hundred years – it's not real."

My grandfather waved him off. "The Lost Things can only be found by those who are worthy, remember? And only the True King is worthy."

I stared down at my lap for a long second, suddenly feeling like explaining my dream would sound like I was making myself out to be more important than I really was.

"I'm sorry," My grandfather added to me. "Please explain why you asked."

I took a breath. "Um, you know what, it's probably not important—

"No, tell me," he commanded gently.

My father picked up a carving knife and a half-finished carving, clearly not interested. My eyes flickered briefly over to him before I spoke. The gesture was so familiar, so him, that it hurt.

"I remember why I forgot everything now." My voice came out barely above a whisper, and suddenly I was spilling everything, everything about how Alvin and the witch had enchanted me, forced me to find the Jewel for them, and I even confessed to Eret's claims that I was the King, stupid as they were, and how I wasn't sure anymore because apparently only the true King could find the Lost Things.

"You're it!" My grandfather hollered as my story drew to a close. "I knew it, I knew you were going to be the King, oh… I tried telling myself it was just my heart, not my Sight, speaking when I promised your father that you were destined for greatness and you were said to be a stillborn! I knew it!" He drew me into yet another one of his bone-breaking hugs, beaming at me through his long white beard. "I knew it!" he repeated excitedly, before he frowned, drawing away from me.

"Oh, no."

"What?"

"This is awful…Hiccup, this means that Alvin and Excellinor have the tenth Lost Thing. They have the Dragon Jewel. Oh, no…"

"Excellinor?"

"The witch, that's her name. Anyway, we need to get that Jewel back as soon as possible—

"Why? What's it do? What's so special about it?"

My grandfather regarded me very seriously for a few moments. "With it, not only will he be able to become King once and for all," he declared softly, "but he can use it to control the dragons as well."

"What?" This time, it was me jumping out of my seat. "Why?"

"Wrinkly, this is a myth," my father insisted. "Would you mind not getting my son so riled up?"

"It isn't a myth!" Wrinkly yelled. "You don't understand, Stoick, you weren't there when I was! You haven't seen what I've seen! You can never understand! The King of the Wilderwest is sitting right in front of you, and you still can't open your eyes!"

My father turned to look at me, and I found myself flinching a little.

"Oh, we need to get that Jewel back," Wrinkly moaned.

My father drew a deep breath. "Wrinkly." He turned to face the older man calmly. "Are you sure that he is the King?"

"I'm as sure as I am of my own name," my grandfather replied seriously.

Dad drew a deep breath. "Then…let's get going. If that Dragon Jewel does as you say, then we need to get it away from Alvin, and as soon as we can."

"Does this mean I can actually be of use for once?"

"No," My father snapped. "This, above all, proves that it's you that Alvin's after. I'm not letting you endanger yourself again."

I knew better than to try and argue; I just slumped down in my seat.

"I'll be going," he declared.

My grandfather's pale eyes widened. "That's not a good idea."

"I don't want anyone else getting mixed up in this."

"Stoick—

"Wrinkly. You don't understand. I trust you. I trust Gobber. That is the extent of it. I want this to be handled quietly. If anybody on Berk were to hear of a bright red jewel that we must get back from Alvin, do you know how many would connect the dots? We need to handle things quickly and quietly. And it'd be best if only one or two people went."

My grandfather looked thoughtful as he nodded. "I guess that makes sense. I'm coming with you."

"No," My father's reply was instantaneous. "I'm sorry, but you're needed here. Your Sight is a wonderful help to the tribe, and I need you to stay here on Berk. I'll be taking Gobber, he's a great burglar. But I need you to stay and look after Hiccup."

"I can look after myself," I added.

"I know that." My father didn't miss a beat. "But if this whole thing turns out to be real…" Something in his words suggested that he trusted Wrinkly more than his own beliefs. "…Then I want to make sure you're safe, now more than ever."


	18. Choice

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 18: Choice

**A/N: Well, here's the newest chapter. Another one where everybody kind of sits and converses instead of actually doing anything xD I'm sorry about that, and how short it is. Next time, I'll try and make it superlong, but no promises. Thank you for all the reviews! Please keep them coming? :D **

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Wrinkly wouldn't let Stoick go until he had looked into the fire and confirmed that all would be well on the journey. "I can't See much, but I See you triumphant, holding the Dragon Jewel as you fly away."

"Wait, fly?" Dad demanded, his brow crinkling.

Wrinkly nodded happily. "Your steed appears to be a blue Thunderdrum. I think the waters of Berk are a favorite spot for them. Of course, you don't have to follow the vision exactly, but I'm thinking that you should go on a dragon. It's always best to have a quick escape if you need it."

Dad scowled at this. "So you're suggesting I ride a dragon to Outcast Island?"

Wrinkly nodded again. "Precisely."

Dad winced.

"Hiccup can help with that," the elderly man volunteered me happily. He didn't seem to notice when I glared at him.

"I'm not a very good teacher," I said pointedly.

"Miss Astrid Hofferson says you are," Wrinkly replied, completely missing the point.

"Really?" My previous concerns and all my uneasiness about my father flew out the window at these words. I hadn't expected a girl as pretty and tough as Astrid to have even known my name. Though I didn't remember much, I remembered liking her company when I had been on Berk.

Wrinkly raised his white eyebrows upon hearing the eagerness in my voice, and I sank back in my seat, pretending to have found a fascinating wood chip in the armrest of my chair.

"Well, the fact remains that I need to learn to fly," Dad jumped in.

Wrinkly looked to me again. How could I say no without looking like a total jerk?

"Gobber should be taught, too," Dad mused thoughtfully. "Seeing as he's coming with me, I mean…"

Wrinkly nodded. "That'd probably be best. Hiccup, do we have any already trained dragons on Berk?"

"Um, well, we have Toothless, Stormfly, Hookfang, Meatlug, Barf and Belch, but I don't think any of those breeds would be right for this kind of thing. It seems unlikely that they'd be able to hold his weight." Realizing what I'd just said, I winced and added quickly, "Sorry."

My father didn't seem to care; he was watching me ramble about the dragons with acute interest. "No, I couldn't take Toothless anyway – the Outcasts would recognize your Night Fury and down him in seconds. I'm assuming they've memorized the way he flies after all your escape attempts?"

I tried to tell myself not to get so worked up that he knew about my escape attempts. "Yes."

"That actually might work wonders," Wrinkly put in. "They wouldn't be aiming to kill, only capture."

"No!" My voice surprised all three of us; it was more forceful than I wanted it to be. "You can't endanger Toothless like that."

The dragon in question rolled his green eyes at my words.

"I'm serious, buddy, you're not doing this," I snapped. "I can't risk you just because of something stupid that I did."

"Oh, yes, because getting enchanted and finding yourself unable to resist the spell is completely your fault," Wrinkly said sarcastically.

So, apparently crazy _and_ sarcasm ran in the family.

"I didn't say that," I responded angrily. "I meant – you know what, it doesn't matter what I meant. The point is, no one should be going. I'm sure that I'm not the real King, so—

"And I'm sure that you are," Wrinkly interrupted lightly. "I know it, anyway. I've seen it."

I blinked in confusion. "But…but Alvin's the real King, right?"

"Forcing a young boy to find the Lost Things and stealing them off him isn't so Kingly," my grandfather snorted.

"But I mean…haven't you seen it? In the fire?"

"Seen what?"

"Alvin! He's wearing a crown on his head! He's the King!"

"You found the _Crown_?"

"No! But I had a dream and I saw him wearing it, and…and…" my confidence flickered when I realized they were both gaping at me. "Um, is there a problem?"

"You're a Soothsayer!" Wrinkly's pale eyes glistened oddly. "Just like me! You…you can See things, just like I can!"

"What? No…no, I can't! I mean…I'd know if I could!"

"Not always," he said in a hushed voice.

"This is crazy!" I shook my head. "My dream was just that! A weird dream! You're the real Soothsayer here! And anyway, if I'm supposed to be King or whatever, tell me why I Saw Alvin as King and you've Seen me as King?"

Wrinkly considered for a moment. "Soothsayers don't really see the future, Hiccup," he informed me after a pause. "Really, we See what could be, what might be. But in the end, our fate isn't really set in stone, or written in blood, or spelled out in the stars. We create our destiny, simply by making our own choices." He smiled at me. "So, yes, what I think that dream signifies is what might be. If you choose not to fight Alvin – which you have every right to choose either or – then he'll end up King."

My eyes widened. So those were my two choices? Fight Alvin the Treacherous for a position that I didn't even want, or let him have it? If I let him have it, I'd die, but that wasn't what bothered me most. What would happen to the other islands? The Hooligans and the Outcasts were in a blood feud…the Outcasts hated almost every tribe except their own…what would happen to the people here? Would Alvin kill them all, once he had them completely at his mercy?

I wasn't too worried about Toothless, because according to Eret, he was a Lost Thing, so he shouldn't be in any danger. But what about the others?

I didn't want to fight Alvin, I realized. It wasn't just that I didn't want to be King – I just didn't want to fight anymore. I was tired of violence and pain, and waking up to my own blood every day. I was tired of running and hiding and being afraid, and I was tired of hearing those distant crashes from aboveground that signified a dragon raid or an attack from another tribe. I just wanted everyone to stop fighting.

Tears stung my eyes as I realized that all I really wanted was to stay here, far away from Kings and crowns and Lost Things and jewels. I just wanted to stay here, and feel like I was home again. I wanted all the uneasiness about my father to just fade away. I just wanted to feel safe again. I didn't want there to be war.

I felt this loss so keenly, this realization that I didn't have a choice anymore. The choice was not mine to make. My grandfather was wrong. Whatever he tried to say, he had been wrong. Sometimes, in our destinies, we didn't get to make our own choices. Because letting even one person pass into slavery was not a choice.

I lifted my head and looked at my father, feeling everything about me trembling.

"We can steal the Lost Things," he ventured uncertainly, "find somebody who's just as worthy as you, and give them the Things. They'll take up your place as King. Would that work?"

"No," Wrinkly cut in before I could answer. "If you did that, Hiccup's whole destiny would be shattered. There is no third option. It's fight Alvin or give it up."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"We need to let him make the decision, Stoick, and we need to respect it, whatever it might be."

They both looked to me, and I swallowed, realizing that I had to make the choice now. I didn't have room for hesitation, for uncertainty.

But I did hesitate, and I did feel uncertain as I met their eyes. No matter which way I turned, there was going to be a war. Berk would fight back against Alvin as their King, and if he didn't become their King, then I had to. There was going to be war either way, and I could do nothing to stop it.


	19. A New Discovery

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 19: A New Discovery

**A/N: I bet you guys totally didn't see THIS coming xD I'm so painfully predictable, I swear xD**

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I knew they were waiting for my answer. I knew they both wanted me to accept this, to say yes. Of course I wanted to become King. Who didn't want to become King? This position sounded like an envied one, but that was the problem: I didn't want it. Whoever got it would be lucky to have it, sure, but that didn't mean that I wanted it. I didn't care, honestly. I just hoped that whoever got the position would be a good leader.

So, seeing as I couldn't honestly tell them yes, that I wanted to fight for it, that I wanted more war over a stupid title, I couldn't tell them no, either, and willingly surrender it. So I just stared at them helplessly, hoping that they could help me in my answer. Wrinkly lifted his eyebrows hopefully, scooting his chair forward a bit, as if not wanting to hear a word of my response.

"I…um…I don't…" The realization of what was going to happen crashed over me. Alvin the Treacherous as King, tons of people dead, even more in slavery… Villages burning. People taking sides. No place would be safe. There would be no more hideouts like Eret's, because everywhere people went to try and escape, Alvin and his Outcasts would hunt them down and find them. I had been running from him for the better part of four years, and I knew that when he was really determined to find something, he found it, whether you wanted him to or not.

And I guess the only excuse was that I'd been doing it so long, it was the only response that came naturally. Instead of answering in words, I turned and ran out the back door, leaving it open long enough only for Toothless to join me before slamming it shut again, sinking back against the wooden steps. I didn't remember everything from my time on here, but I had the feeling that my father had the annoying habit of chasing me down whenever I ran away, so I hoped he wouldn't do that this time.

The only noise I heard from inside was Wrinkly's faint murmur, "Oh, dear…I daresay I overwhelmed him with that last question…"

I jumped off the steps again and walked away from the house, feeling like I could clear my head if I could just get away from things for a little while. More than anything, I wanted to go for a flight with Toothless, but I was worried that the Outcasts might spot us. I reluctantly stayed on the ground, trying to skirt around the village so I wouldn't have to speak to anyone. Toothless stayed beside me the whole time, nuzzling me with his nose and trying to figure out exactly what was wrong. He understood human speech enough to understand me when I spoke, but I had a theory about how far their understanding of humans actually went. I don't think he really understood what Wrinkly had been saying about me.

"I'm okay, bud," I assured him gently. "I just…" I sighed, reaching the edge of the forest and collapsing against a tree trunk, leaning my head back to stare up at the sky. "I don't want any more war, Toothless," I said in a very small voice. "I just want to have a home here again, and I want to remember whatever my brain doesn't want me to remember about my father, and I…just…I don't want to be King!" I ended my rant forcefully, leaning back against the trunk again. "I just want everything to be normal again."

Toothless reached over and licked my cheek consolingly.

I offered him a tiny smile, grateful that he was still sticking around. "Thanks, bud." I patted his nose, but instantly moved my hand again; it appeared that he had something to tell me. He mimed licking my whole body, without actually doing so – for which I was grateful, because although Night Fury saliva has incredible healing properties, it doesn't wash out and it certainly doesn't make a raw fish taste any better.

I stared at him for a second, unsure of what he meant before my eyes widened, and I actually laughed a little. "Oh, Toothless, that's not what I…okay, okay, I'll do it, I'll do it." I surrendered easily, deciding to follow him into the forest, as dragons had an incredible sense of direction and he could find the way.

He seemed proud that he had made me laugh just by suggesting that I take a bath, as I had said I needed to do just the previous night, because he was doing that odd little skip he always did whenever he was particularly happy, nudging me along. I wasn't familiar with the forest, but I wasn't uneasy, either; I wasn't near enough to any lake or river yet to smell it, but Toothless obviously could, and the ground beneath me quickly became muddy and damp.

The lake was just a clear pool of freshwater, but it would do for a wash. I gave his nose a grateful pat. He probably remembered me talking about needing a bath last night, and he wasn't connecting the dots as to what was upsetting me quite yet. Again, I had a theory about dragons – I didn't think they truly understood war, or the brutality of it. I took off my one boot and began undoing the straps of my prosthetic before hesitating, looking over at Toothless. "Did I ever wash after losing my leg?"

He nodded reassuringly, and I shrugged. He was here, the water was shallow. I wasn't terrified of water or anything, but after Halfdan and his friends back on Outcast Island had tried to drown me, I wasn't exactly ecstatic about it. I pulled off my leggings and unlaced my tunic, but as I ripped it off and slid into the rather cold water, I saw something out of the corner of my eye: a new scar on my arm. It shouldn't have surprised me. Alvin was always leaving scars, and he had probably just left me another right before he'd wiped my memory. I went to see what kind of weapon he had used before drawing back in shock, making a splash in the tiny pool.

Toothless was by my side in an instant, nuzzling my hair and looking to see what was wrong. He growled slightly when he saw the mark on my arm, but he gave no indication of what had happened. I realized I was shaking a little, making the words on my arm quiver back and forth. "What…why…Toothless?" I glanced up at him uncertainly. "Why…what did…I don't remember Alvin ever…"

Toothless shook his head just the tiniest bit, and I wasn't completely sure what he meant. Was he saying that he didn't remember Alvin doing it, either? If he didn't, then it must have been after Humongous handed me off to him, because Toothless wasn't with me that time, thank Odin.

Toothless crawled carefully into the water with me, being gentle so he wouldn't make a splash. He gave a screech and hopped out again, his eyes wide at how cold it was before steeling himself and crawling back in. I wanted to forget the stupid mark on my arm and just have a day with Toothless, but there was something there, something not quite right about it. Something told me that it wasn't Alvin who had done this to me.

Toothless shimmied up beside me, supporting me in the water so I didn't have to float there alone, but I patted him reassuringly. I could feel the sand beneath my one foot, and that was calming enough that I wasn't afraid of going under, now that I understood how shallow it really was.

Toothless bent his head beneath the water right in front of me, and I could see tiny bubbles floating up to the surface. I smiled at his antics before realizing they were for my benefit; the water around me suddenly heated rapidly, and I sighed a little in satisfaction at the temperature. I moved my arm again, the mark catching my eye. What had I done, besides train Toothless? What had I done? What had I done to have Alvin carve 'traitor' into my skin?


	20. Distance

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 20: Distance

**A/N: Hey, guys :D new chapter. I need to update Untold but ughhh no inspiration. I shall try. **

* * *

It was a relief, above all, to be clean again, just to see my skin return to its normal color, to scrub away all the dirt. The water heated rapidly but cooled slowly, so Toothless didn't have to warm it up again until about twenty minutes later, after he had already splashed me purposely with the colder water twice and smirked when I yelped and glared at him for it.

I sank back into the warmth with a satisfied sigh before glancing at my clothes, realizing I had been in the water for a long time. I was technically already clean, so I really should have just gotten out again. I crawled up onto the bank and Toothless followed, for which I was grateful because doing everything one-legged was a task that I just wasn't up to. I spotted the mark on my arm again as I leaned heavily on Toothless, working my legs into the leggings and reaching for my tunic and prosthetic. Where had it come from?

The question plagued me as I tugged the shirt over my head, laced it up, and started buckling my prosthetic on again. The design might have been complex to any other Viking, but, as I had spent a good bit of my life on Outcast Island working in the forge, it was fairly simple to me. I leaned against Toothless' side, settling myself in the grass as I strapped it back on. "Thanks, bud," I panted gratefully. Even with Toothless' help, dressing with only one leg was exhausting.

He licked my cheek to show his response and shook himself to get the water off. I knew enough to know that that's what he was doing and shielded myself with my hands just before he did. As I started tugging the vest on my shoulders, I rolled up my sleeve a bit, looking at the mark again before cutting my gaze to Toothless. "Should I even ask anyone about this?" I whispered, sinking down into the grass again. "What if they can't tell me how it happened? And I don't know, but I don't like the feeling I get whenever I look at it…" I trailed off uncertainly.

Toothless crooned worriedly at me, wrapping me in a warm hug with his wings. I smiled as he pulled me against his black underbelly, warming me instantly after the goosebumps on my skin from the cold breeze. He nuzzled my hair with his nose, blowing the auburn strands awry and snuggled me closer before releasing me onto the grass. Although his hug didn't answer my question, it made me feel a bit better. I smiled up at him as I took to my feet again, patting his nose gratefully. "C'mon, bud. We'd better get back to the village now."

With a flush of shame, I remembered running away from Wrinkly and Dad. What were they thinking of me now? That I was weak? That I couldn't handle being King?

"Well, they've got a point there," I muttered, more to myself than to Toothless, though I was sure he heard. I guess I didn't really care if they thought I was too weak to be King. I didn't want to be King anyway. It was probably best for them to realize that I wasn't fit now, than to get all excited about it and be disappointed when it was too late and I'd already been crowned.

I frowned as the house came into view again, a lot sooner than I wanted it to. I didn't want to have to face them again, to come running back with my tail tucked between my legs, but the feeling of suffocation, of being utterly overwhelmed, was at least gone. "C'mon, bud," I mumbled to Toothless, jumping up the steps leading up to the back door and placing one hand upon the thick wood. "We might as well get it over with."

I pushed open the door and made my careful way inside, asking myself of the likelihood of being able to escape upstairs before I was spotted.

"Hiccup." My father must have heard my footsteps, because he turned from where he was tending the fire to look at me, dropping the poker. "I need to speak with you."

I dropped my gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry about running away, I just…I needed time, and—

"No," he cut in swiftly. "I'm sorry. We overwhelmed you."

I looked at the two other chairs beside the fire and realized that they were empty. Wrinkly must have left. "Um, hey, I need to ask you something."

He raised a curious eyebrow, but did not rise from his chair, so I took a few steps closer. "I went into the forest and took a wash, but, well…when I took my tunic off, I saw something kind of weird, and I was hoping you could tell me where I got it?" I hesitated on the point of rolling up my sleeve, but he looked rather curious, so I did.

Dad's face paled and he drew back the instant he saw the mark. "I…um…"

"You know what happened." I couldn't have mistook his reaction; his gray eyes were wide with sudden, inexplicable fear. "Tell me, did Alvin do this? And why?"

"He…um…" Dad seemed to have found his voice. "Yes…he did that to you, I'm…I mean…he did it, because he was angry with you for traveling to Berk and discovering your true heritage…"

This didn't sound like the whole truth, but if he was removing some things to spare me the grisly details, I was grateful. I had a feeling that I didn't want to remember this. I winced in remembered pain when I gingerly touched the scar. "Hmm…"

Dad glanced quickly at me, and then away again, back towards the fire. "You sound upset."

"Angry that Alvin got more of my skin," I corrected. "So what's going on with you and Outcast Island? You still taking a dragon?"

He nodded. "If I can manage it. Would you know of any breeds that can hold my weight?"

"Um, you could try a really tough Gronckle, or you and Gobber could take a Zippleback, but the Zipplebacks are really only supposed to be for slight riders…I don't think you fit the bill…Wrinkly said a Thunderdrum… I've studied the Thunderdrum before, it could work…"

He raised his eyebrows, watching me.

"I'm still not a good teacher," I insisted, hating the uneasiness in my gut when I thought about being alone with this man. "But from what I remember, Astrid is, she taught me how to ice skate, so you should probably ask her…"

"But the only dragon she's ever trained is a Deadly Nadder, and I'm sure you'll get the work done quicker," Dad replied stubbornly. "And right now, Hiccup, speed is essential."

I sank into the vacated chair in front of the fire with a sigh, knowing there was no way to refuse. "If you insist on going through with this, I'll teach you everything I can."

"Thank you." His voice was surprisingly stiff and formal, and I realized then that it was mimicking mine. I had been uneasy around him since I came, and I couldn't pinpoint why, and I must have been formal with him, too.

The thought of the distance between us wasn't upsetting to me; I remembered flashes of him being kind to me, but not enough to realize that I'd lost anything. I sighed dispiritedly, returning my gaze to the fire. "I'll try and find a good breed for you, Dad."

His gray eyes snapped up to mine. "What did you call me?"

"Sir," I corrected myself instantly, uncomfortably aware that his gaze was hard and cold and sad. "I'm sorry, sir, I, um…I forgot myself."

"No, no, it's alright," he insisted gently, rising from his chair and kneeling in front of mine, taking my hand. The fire hissed and sputtered, but he didn't glance back at it. "I just…you've never called me that before."

"I'll stop," I mumbled as I flushed. "I didn't realize it bothered you, I just…don't know what else to call you."

"No, I just said it was fine, I'm only surprised. I didn't expect you to accept me so quickly is all."

I wanted to tell him that I didn't accept him. I was only calling him that because I didn't know what else to call him. 'Stoick' just sounded too personal, too familiar. And 'chief' just didn't feel right. But I could tell that saying these things would only upset him, so I just smiled and said, "Of course."


	21. Be Careful

Unbreakable

_The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'._

Chapter 21: Be Careful

**A/N: ****SURPRISE**

**Yes, this is the surprise. Updating all of my eighteen in-progress fics at once. It was pretty crazy, but I did it, and it's here, and good day to you all! I had tons of fun doing this, so I hope you guys have tons of fun reading this!**

**Anyway, BLAEGGHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG LET'S PRETEND THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT EXIST OKAY GOD IT'S PURE FILLERRRRRR **

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The purple Nadder started pining for Eret, watching the skies in worry as if expecting the man to hurtle suddenly down from the clouds and land on Berk's shores. I could tell that the dragon wanted to go after him, and I didn't protest; it would take us a few days to find a breed suitable for Dad, to train the dragon, teach him how to ride, and get everything settled and ready for his departure. I wanted Eret back just as much as the Nadder did, and nobody else knew the dragon personally; the absence went unnoticed.

According to Fishlegs, they had a book on all the different dragon breeds, a fact that surprised me. An island that killed dragons wouldn't have researched the different types; at least, that's what I thought. When he reluctantly handed it off to me (he didn't seem to want to let it go long enough for me to take it) I flipped it open and felt a wrenching in my gut that had nothing to do with the chicken I had just eaten.

There were detailed descriptions of these dragons, their weaknesses, their strengths, ways to kill them and weapons that worked best against them. The sight made me feel sick and angry, made me want to throw the book in the ocean. Yet the pages had useful information scrawled upon them, information that even I hadn't previously discovered. Dad and I spent the time reading up on the different breeds, debating which one would be best for him to take to Outcast Island. Toothless stayed close by my chair, seemingly on edge and slightly jumpy, but for what reason, he wouldn't say.

"You know, I've never even heard of some of these breeds," I said thoughtfully as I turned the page. "I've heard of the Whispering Death, but never the _Screaming_ Death. And I've never even seen a Timberjack or a Typhoomerang."

Dad gave me an odd look. "I'd expect you to know all of these breeds, and beyond, Hiccup. You are an expert on dragons, aren't you?"

I flushed, glancing back down at the page. "Honestly, I'm not even close. I mean, there are a few breeds that I've met that are missing from here – Speed Stingers and Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus…Flightmares, that's also a good breed, but they're incredibly rare and our chances of catching and taming one of them in a couple days are very slim. It took me months to build a bond with a Flightmare – they love their freedom too much to feel loyalty towards humans or other dragon species."

Dad didn't say anything, and I didn't get to see his expression; I had started reading the page I'd landed on, and it turned out to be pretty interesting. "The Thunderdrum does sound like a pretty good bet, but they're a bit like Flightmares, honestly, and they prefer water to land or air. We could try a Seashocker, but they're not very trustworthy when it comes to serious situations, they like pranks more than missions, most of them."

"What about the Skrill?" Dad ventured, gesturing to the dragon riding a thunderbolt up on the corner of the page.

"They, um, I don't know if they could handle your weight, either, no offense. Also, they ride lightning bolts. If you want to be riding an electric current instead of a dragon the whole way to Outcast Island, then have at it. I think a Thunderdrum or a Scauldron is your best bet right now, but a Thunderdrum is best. Scauldrons are slow fliers and they can only be in the air for about an hour at a time before they have to go underwater again. So, unless you could handle being randomly submerged in the ocean…"

He chuckled, even though I wasn't joking. "A Thunderdrum it is, then!"

"Are there even any around this island?"

"Plenty," he nodded, taking the book from my hands and closing it gently, setting it aside. "As far as we know, they seem to enjoy colder temperatures, because we get loads of them every winter. Summer's nearly on the island, so there won't be _quite_ as many…"

I wasn't even sure that a Thunderdrum was the best bet, by that point. What were we going to do? Throw raw fish in the water and hope the dragon came up? Of course, I knew that seadragons rarely ever ate fish; they played with the fish, as casually as if they were both the same species, and they were horribly offended if you ever expected them to eat it.

I wasn't even certain what the Thunderdrum ate, but I knew it was some type of meat, and they liked it bloody. This was not going to be pretty.

* * *

I was right. It wasn't pretty. In fact, it was so not pretty that I couldn't even decide what the un-prettiest part was. It was a dead tie between Gobber insisting that Thunderdrums came up only if you disturbed them, and insisting on banging an axe upon a shield for several long minutes, resulting only in a very annoyed Scauldron that tried to burn him with a mouthful of boiling water; me discovering that Thunderdrums, unlike land-dragons, did _not_ like dragon nip; or Dad, in the end, losing his head completely and throwing a net over the Thunderdrum until we were safely back on dry land.

Turned out, there was something called the "Kill Ring" on Berk, and that was where we ended up taking the Thunderdrum, depositing him in one of the cages.

"Sorry," I apologized guiltily as we shut the door on him and pulled out the Dragon Book once again, to look up everything we could about Thunderdrums.

There wasn't really much useful information within the pages about training a dragon, actually, so I made the executive decision that hands-on training would help.

"Are you sure?" Gobber pressed.

"I know what I'm doing," I assured him, walking over to the door of the cage and preparing to unlatch it.

"That's what you said about the dragon nip," Gobber quipped.

I glared at him. "I know what I'm doing _now_," I emphasized, unlocking the cage door.

The Thunderdrum sprang out, roaring angrily at us, his mouth open, his teeth bared. I stayed where I was, staring him down, waiting for his rage to subside. He seemed particularly agitated about Dad, turning his eyes upon him.

"Hey, it's okay." I bent down so I was eye level with the dragon, whispering soothingly, trying to talk quietly, but also make myself heard over his roaring.

"Be careful." Dad cautioned quietly.


End file.
